


Don't Miss a Moment

by agentofvalue



Series: Don't Miss a Moment [3]
Category: Agent Carter (TV), Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Domestic, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Pregnancy, or as domestic as Peggy and Steve get
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-31
Updated: 2018-04-11
Packaged: 2018-07-11 04:59:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 40,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7029790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agentofvalue/pseuds/agentofvalue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The war has been over for years. After five years, Steve even came back from the dead. Peggy married him and that should be the happily ever after. But, they are still Captain America and Agent Carter. With them, nothing ever goes according to plan. Not even impending parenthood.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> In the same universe as the rest of the [Don't Miss a Moment series](http://archiveofourown.org/series/452632) (obviously) where Steve was found after only five years. You don't have to read the other parts, but it couldn't hurt. Enjoy!

"English!" 

Peggy looked up at the sound of her nickname, too lost in thought to even notice the stream of people coming through the door from the tarmac. 

Angie was barreling towards her and Peggy had never been happier to see her friend. They collided in a tight hug. It had been over a year since they'd seen each other last, which was far too long. 

"How are you doing?" Angie said when she let go. 

"Heavy," Peggy answered. It was the only term she could come up with that encompasses the weight of the worry. 

Angie put her arm around her friend's shoulders. "I'm here. Let me take some of the load, alright?" 

"He's missing, Ange. Really missing." 

"We knew that," she said gently. 

"It's official now." 

The report had come across her desk the day before. Steve Rogers was missing in action. Her husband had disappeared. The mission was only supposed to be two nights. 

And what was the point of being head of the S.S.R.'s largest office if she couldn't do anything about it. New regulations kept her hands tied. There had been restructuring at the highest levels, a division between operations and intelligence, and the firm verdict from the highest levels that Peggy needed to stay put. The heads of office were too valuable to risk overseas. Tactical units had been dispatched. They were doing their best, but it wasn't enough. 

"Come hell or high water," Steve had said as he always said as he kissed her goodbye. 

That had been twelve days ago. She'd called Angie when she couldn't take the quiet apartment any longer. Almost as soon as Angie had pried what was going on out of Peggy, she had headed for the airport. She was a Hollywood star now and could do things like that. Peggy didn't even argue; she didn't want to be alone anymore. 

"They'll find him or he'll find his own way out," Angie said. 

"It just took a while last time," Peggy said with a tired smile. 

Angie squeezed Peggy's shoulders a little tighter. "That's half the spirit." 

Peggy laughed a little, but it didn't shake the feeling. She'd been here before. She knew precisely what it felt like to lose Steve and she didn't know if she could do it again. 

Five years to be exact. Five years of thinking he was dead, five years of moving on when she'd received a call saying they'd found the plane. As if that wasn't enough, Stark had said Steve could be saved. And he had been. They pulled him out of the ice and he woke up. They'd married, and she had everything she wanted. 

"How are you doing?" Peggy asked as they started for the baggage claim. Angie's arm still holding Peggy close. 

"I'm good," Angie said. "It's good to be back home even if I wish it were for better reasons." 

"How was the flight?"

"Long with a rough landing. There was a jerk who recognized me too. Wouldn't stop staring." 

"The nerve." 

Angie kept going as they waited for her luggage. Already the bubbly chatter was helping to put Peggy at ease. She was so grateful. 

"Ange?" she said, interrupting. 

“Peg?” 

"Thanks for coming," she said. 

"'Course, English. Anything you need."

Luggage collected, they headed for the taxi stand. Peggy could have called for a car; she could've even sent someone to collect Angie for her. She was so angry and bloody frustrated with the S.S.R. that she wanted nothing to do with them or their resources. Someday she would be in charge and then she'd have a say in what happened when the love of her life and half a dozen of her men went missing. 

They rode in the back of the cab without saying much but making polite conversation with the driver. In part because they couldn't say anything about Steve in front of the cabbie and in part because Peggy had to focus on not getting sick. Every time they slowed, Peggy wanted to groan. The fact that the car stank like old hot dogs didn’t help.

"Oh thank God," she mumbled as they finally stopped in front of the brownstone. 

She scrambled out of the car and into the open air. She sucked in a few deep breaths, trying to ease the queasiness. 

"You okay?" Angie asked when she had retrieved her bag. 

"I can fly in a plane that's getting shot at, but New York traffic turns my stomach," Peggy said. 

"The great Agent Carter gets carsick. I never thought I'd see the day." 

"Keep laughing. It wouldn’t have been so funny if I'd been sick all over your lap." 

"Gross," Angie said and made a face. 

"On that note, welcome,” Peggy said and let the way inside the apartment. “I’ll give you the grand tour.” 

Peggy and Steve had bought a little Brooklyn brownstone and Angie hadn't been back to the city since they'd moved. It had four units with Peggy and Steve on the ground floor and tenants upstairs. Something was always broken or someone was late with the electric bill, but they actually enjoyed managing the place. They had sole access to the back garden and caring for it had revealed something of a green thumb in both of them too. 

The building was raised so even on the first floor there was natural light. The front of the apartment was filled with the kitchen and the living room. A long, skinny hallway reach all the way to through to the garden. Two bedrooms and the bathroom branched off the hallway. The master bedroom was almost twice as large as the other. The second bedroom had a day bed squeezed against one wall and rest filled with a great deal of junk. It had become a catch-all for all the things they didn't have time to properly put away. There was a desk buried in there somewhere. Peggy had put some of her nervous energy to clear some of it so at least there was the bed for Angie. 

"Great place you've got here," said Angie. The tour had ended the garden so Peggy could show off the roses. 

"Thanks. We want to turn the units backs into one home. Someday." 

"Someday soon, alright?" 

"I know." Peggy smiled, but she knew it was one of those sad smiles that convinced no one. 

“So, what now?" Angie asked. She put her hands on her hips, all business. 

Peggy blew out a puff of air. She had no idea what now. 

An answer came in the form of the ringing telephone from inside. Angie, clearly feeling more energetic than Peggy, bustle off to pick it up. Even though it could have something to do with Steve, Peggy followed more slowly. 

"Carter-Rogers residence," said Angie. "Indisposed at the moment. I can talk a message?" Pause. “So it's not about Steve?" Pause. “I only ask because—“ She made a noise of surprise. "No need for that tone, Mr. Top Secret. Send it over. She's not coming in. Thank you!" 

The sound of the receiver clunking back in its cradle echoed. 

Peggy dropped into one of the two chairs at the little kitchen table. Two chairs for just the two of them. 

“Your office is sending over some paperwork,” Angie said. 

"I should go in,” Peggy said

“Hogwash. You hungry?" Angie said.

"Not really." 

"Your stomach still upset?" 

"A little." 

"You want tea? Doesn't tea make everything better for you Brits?" 

"Tea would be lovely." She didn't really want tea, but it was something to do. 

Angie began digging in the cupboards. 

“There’s a wooden box in the left-hand cupboard,” Peggy said. 

Angie stopped her rummaging and followed the directions. She set the box with compartments for different types of tea on the table. She spotted the kettle sitting on the stove, filled it from the sink, and put it back over a flame. 

Peggy tucked an ankle around one of the chair legs and put her elbows on the table, smooching her cheeks between her fists. 

"Sugar and milk?" Angie said. 

"Sugar is in the jar next to the sink and the milk is in the icebox. There's a small pitcher next to the sink too." 

Angie retrieved the items, filling the blue and white patterned pitcher with the milk before bringing that to the table too. The moment the open container was in front of Peggy the mild nausea lurched. She covered her mouth with her fingertips as her stomach heaved. She waited for it to pass. 

It didn't. 

"English?" said Angie when she noticed. "You've gone pale—well paler." 

Peggy held up her other hand, still hoping for it to pass. The feeling wasn't going anywhere. She waved at the pitcher and Angie snatched it away. Even with the offender out of range, the rolling didn't stop. She leaped from the table and ran to the bathroom. 

A few minutes later, Angie knocked and entered without Peggy saying anything. They both knew if she had waited for Peggy's consent it might never come. 

"I've been sick with worry," Peggy said from the floor. She was sitting in front of the toilet and leaning against the tub. 

Angie didn't say anything. She climbed into the empty tub as if she was having a proper soak. When she was settled, she reached out and put a hand on Peggy's arm. It was a light touch, but stabilizing. 

"Peg?" she asked. 

"Ange?" 

"Any chance—any possibility—normally I won't ask this kind of question, mind you—could you be expecting?" 

Peggy sniffed, heading towards tears. "What makes you say that?" 

Angie skipped her characteristic are-kidding-me? face. "I'm an Italian from a big family. Somebody is always expecting. And I know you. You worry, but you do something about it. You don't make yourself sick.”

Peggy buried her face in her hands and Angie's grip tightened on her arm. Her voice relatively steady even though she still spoke through her fingers. "There's a very real possibility. We've been trying. Since my promotion, I'm in the field less. Steve has been home more. Now is as good as it's going to get." She looked at Angie again, dropping her hands. "Steve and I have terrible timing." 

A little hiccuping sob escaped and Angie practically launched herself at Peggy as she pulled Peggy into a tight hug. Peggy let herself be overwhelmed. The fear and the worry and the memories of losing him the first time all crashed down. It came in a great wave that rushed back to sea as quickly as it had hit the shore. 

"He's coming home," Peggy said forcefully and pulled away. 

Angie rested her chin on top of her hand on the edge of the tub. "Of course, he is, English. No doubt." She paused for a moment. ”Does he know?”

"Not yet,” Peggy said with a steadying breath. "It occurred to me the morning he left. I didn't want to distract him. He’ll be a dopey fool when he finds out."

"More than usual?"

Peggy smiled and wiped her eyes. "More than usual. He—” She stopped herself. 

“He what, Peg?” she said gently. 

They had thought she might be pregnant once before and he had started talking to her stomach. He had put his cheek against her naked skin and swirled little circles with his fingertip. When it proved they had got their hopes up too soon, he hadn’t stopped. He would offer encouragement to the process. He called it Maybe Baby and talked about all the things they’d do together someday. She would run her fingers through his hair, half listening, and wanting nothing more than to give him what he was hoping for. 

She had wanted to tell him in one of those moments. If circumstances had lined up. It didn’t look like they would. 

“He’s smitten with the very idea. He already talks to my belly sometimes after, well," Peggy said. 

She would have been embarrassed to admit that to anyone but Angie. 

Angie could have let Peggy wallow. She could have given Peggy another hug and let her feel sorry for how much she missed Steve. Instead, Angie said, “Yes, yes, I get it. Marital bliss. No need to rub it in.” 

Peggy laughed a little. "I don't mean to brag."

"I do not believe you Mrs. Captain America, mother of his child."

"Bloody hell, Ange." 

“It’s good news, right?” 

Peggy wanted it to be. She hadn't thought beyond what if. She had had the thought and let it sit. Waiting a few days to tell him of her suspicions not only kept him focused, but it gave her time to process. She had lots of plans for what might happen, but they have been abstract. Now, the prospect seemed much more daunting. She had been nervous before and now she was terrified. 

Peggy shrugged and tried to nod at the same time. 

“I’ll be happy for you.” Angie pulled Peggy into another hug. “Congrats, English.” 

“Thanks,” Peggy said, but her heart wasn’t in it. “I think I should make an appearance at the office. Just see what they want.” 

She didn’t even stand up. 

"No, you should be taking it easy. You're with child for God's sake." 

"That is not going to stop me,” she said. 

Nothing should stop her. Nothing should keep her from getting on a plane. She should be boots on the ground, not stuck coordinator from behind a desk on the other side of the world. Not stuck waiting for paperwork. She had been given direct orders, and she was doing her best to be patient. Every day that went by tested her limits. She was giving them two weeks—Angie’s arrival may have bought them a few more days. 

Angie was still watching her carefully. 

“What?” Peggy said. 

“I can see your mind going. What are you thinking?” 

“I should be there,” Peggy said. 

“Overseas? Are you crazy?”

“I’m no use here. I’ve always been there to look after him. What if he’s expecting me to find him?” 

“Peggy, I know for a fact he would prefer that you are safe, especially now. I know that you kick ass and take names, but now you have more than yourself to worry about.” 

“I’m worried about my husband." 

Angie squeezed Peggy’s arm again. “I know, English. Me too. But he’s Captain America. He’s got himself into and out of worse scrapes I’m sure.” 

It was the same reasoning she had used to comfort Peggy earlier. There was no point in reiterating that it had taken him five years to come back to her after his last bad scrape. 

The phone rang again. 

“Jesus Christ,” said Angie. “Don’t they ever leave you alone?” 

Angie popped out of the tub and was already in the hall before Peggy could move. She got up this time and went to the sink to try to freshen up a little. 

“Carter-Rogers residence,” Angie said again but with a little more venom. “She’s still indisposed. I told that other—oh. Oh God! Peggy!” 

Peggy dropped everything and ran. She felt like she was going to be sick again. Angie was holding out the phone and Peggy scrambled for it. 

“Tell me some good news,” she said. 

“I have good news,” said Agent Wallace. 

Her entire body signed with relief. “Thank God.” 

“They're landing now. I'm sending a car for you.” 

“What? Now? They're back?” 

“Yes. On their way to the hospital already.” 

“Why didn't anyone tell me the team had bloody been found? This is ridiculous. I'm the chief, not some little wife.” 

“The office only got the call two minutes ago,” he said in a pacifying tone. “There were security issues I think. I don't really know. It's all a mess. Lots of injuries.” 

“Steve?” 

“No casualties.” He seemed positive. “The word was it's not bad, but it's also not good. You'll get the full story first. Both as chief and as the little wife.” 

“Watch your tone, Agent,” she teased and then laughed. 

“The car should be there in ten.” 

“Thank you, Wallace."

"You're welcome, ma'am."

She put the phone down, turned to Angie, and burst into tears. Happy tears to be sure and Angie knew it. She swooped down and wrapped Peggy in yet another hug. 

“It all worked out,” Angie said. “I didn’t need to come.” 

“I’m still glad you did,” Peggy said into her shoulder. “I don't know what's wrong with me.”

“It's the baby. Just you wait.” 

Peggy pulled herself together and Angie let her go. 

“A car is going to pick me up. Would you come with me?” 

“Do I have, um, clearance?” 

“Who cares? You already know too much, anyway.” 

Angie laughed. “Of course, I'll come. I have to give that big lunk a piece of my mind for leaving his pregnant wife behind.” 

**

The hospital was chaos. On top of the usual New York City mayhem, there was added disorder of what seemed like half a returning army. It didn’t seem to matter it was only about twenty men returning. The injured, doctors, nurses, S.S.R. agents, S.S.R. security all descended upon one wing. 

Peggy stepped into the hallway with Angie in tow and tried to make sense of it all, tried not to look for just one face in the madness. Everyone needed to be accounted for, but she couldn’t help herself. In this first moment, she couldn’t be the chief. She was only a wife with something very important to tell her husband. 

Angie tapped Peggy on the shoulder. Peggy turned, knowing what it meant. Steve was at the far end of the hall directing troops. He was okay. He was still in his field uniform, covered in dirt and probably blood, and beat to hell. One of his eyes was black and blue too. A gash on his head had left a streak of what was definitely blood all the way down his cheek. But he was okay. 

When their eyes met, he gave her a lopsided smile. She put her hands to her to chest over her heart. He weaved his way through the mess to her. He clasped her hand when he reached her and leaned down for one quick kiss. Her grip tightened; she never wanted to let go. 

“Late,” he said. “As usual.”

“It is so good to see you.” 

“You too.” 

“You okay?” 

“Will be,” he said with another smile. 

“Good.” 

“Work to do?” 

She nodded. “Doctors to see?” 

He nodded, and he gave her another kiss. They stood like that for just a moment more. Even this was a luxury. There had been times when a single look had needed to be a sufficient hello, a sufficient check to make sure everything was okay. 

They let go at the same time. 

“I'll find you when I'm done,” he said. 

“Actually let the doctors look at you, okay? Chief’s orders.” 

He gave her a salute. 

She turned away; she was ready to be the chief now. 

Angie caught her before Peggy could get to work. 

“That’s it?” she hissed. “No running to your lover’s arms? No warm embrace? No tears of happiness because you told him?” 

“There’s work to do. This isn’t the time.” 

“They know you are married, right?” 

“Of course. They’ll be plenty of time later. I have twenty other men I need to make sure are alright. I need to find out what happened. Are you going to be okay? The car can take you back to the apartment. I shouldn’t have made you come.” 

“I’ll find some way to be useful. Go do what you need to do,” Angie said. 

So, Peggy went to go do what she needed to do. 

Peggy caught two of her men—Reilly and McCoy—as they passed. Both had been on Steve’s team. They were also still in their field uniforms and also covered in dirt and probably blood. They need a hot meal and a hot bath. Reilly was leaning heavily on McCoy and not bearing any weight on one foot; McCoy looked as though the damage was just cuts and bruises. From what she could see, they were the doing better than most even with Reilly’s injury.

“Welcome back,” she said. 

“Chief,” they said together. 

She slipped under Reilly’s other arm to share the weight with McCoy and they moved towards the nearest empty room. They set Reilly on the examination table and McCoy collapsed into a chair. 

“Up for a quick mission report?” Peggy asked. 

“Yes, ma’am,” said Reilly. 

“Go ahead.” 

“Ambush, ma’am,” said McCoy. “Someone knew we were coming.” 

“Is that why not even your chief knew you were coming in?” 

“Yes, ma’am,” they said together. 

“Someone had to know our plans,” Reilly said. “Our boots hit the ground, and it was after us.” 

“What was?” Peggy asked. 

“Never did figure it out,” McCoy said. 

“Bigfoot. Yeti. A monster of some kind. It chased us for days—I don’t know how many—until we managed to trap it an old barn and blew it to hell,” said Reilly.

“Nearly blew Cap up too,” McCoy said, and it earned him a sharp frown from Reilly. They probably weren’t supposed to mention that to Cap’s wife. “He saved our asses. He fought the thing to keep it in the barn while we set the charges.” 

She nodded, not ready to comment on Steve’s actions. 

“The explosion attracted the right people, though. It’s how we got found. We’d been running almost flat out of days. We were so far off course,” McCoy continued. 

“This thing stopped us the second we arrived. The mission failed, ma’am,” Reilly said with his jaw set in a resigned way. He didn’t want to tell his boss they had failed, but he was owning up to it. He wasn’t dancing around the topic. There was bravery in that. 

“You all made it home and I don’t consider that a failure,” Peggy said. “Sometimes there’s a reassessing of objectives in the field. This time, it was to survive, and you did.” 

“Thank you, ma’am.” 

“Stay here. I’ll get a doctor.” 

She got the doctor and moved onto the next group. 

It wasn’t until she’d had spoken to every one of her men and made sure they were all resting comfortably or on their way to being discharged that she sat down. She had checked in on Angie a few times too. She was holding court with a group of the men impressed with having a movie star in their midst. Angie looked like she was enjoying herself. 

Peggy found her way to a row of waiting room chairs in the hallway. They were uncomfortable plastic things bolted to the floor. Still, it was a place to sit, so she sat, leaning her head against the wall and closing her eyes. Her entire body ached from her high heeled shoes to her tense shoulders. She put her hand on her stomach. 

“ _We did it_ ,” she thought to the baby, considering the little life as something beyond herself for the first time—letting herself consider it. 

They’d made it through the first crisis and it hadn’t been so bad. Doing something with purpose had helped her morning sickness despite the caustic smells of a hospital. Steve was safe as were all her men by some miracle. She hadn’t been exaggerating when she had said she didn’t consider the mission a failure. Everyone was home and that was truly something. 

It was time for her to find her husband and her best friend and go home herself. She couldn’t quite make herself get up again. 

A shadow passed over her and she smiled. 

“Hey, soldier,” she said without opening her eyes. 

“Hey, gorgeous,” Steve said. 

Now, she looked up at him. His appearance had approved. He was cleaned and the cut on his forehead had been bandaged. Though, he still had quite the shiner. He was out of his uniform and in a plain white t-shirt and olive pants. 

He offered a hand, and she took it so he helped her to her feet. She reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck. She had to stand on her tiptoes to reach. He put his arms around her too. They stood like that for a long while. He just held her, and she was just held.

She hadn't actually been scared he wouldn't come home—well, she had been worried. There was always that little voice in the back of the mind. The same thought she had had every time they parted during the war. Every goodbye might be the last. They had both provided to be tougher than anyone anticipated. They made it out no matter what. Still, she liked it better right here. 

“Are you hurt badly?” she asked. 

“Just really, really, really banged up.” 

“Poor boy,” she teased. 

“I'm sorry I was late,” he said. “I feel like I'm always apologizing.”

She pulled back at little and clasped her hands around his back. He did the same to her. They stood alone in the hallway with all noises and other people out of reach and out a focus. 

“I was the one in the hospital bed last time.” Just a year ago, a chemical weapon had given her amnesia, and she hadn’t even recognized him. 

“True, but this was a bad one,” he said with a sigh. 

She had no right to think about herself. Being left behind was its unique challenge, but he was the one who had had to fight. He was the one who had run for his life for days and then be nearly blown up. He was the one who was injured. 

She reached up and fussed with the bandage on his forehead. The edged of the tape hadn't been lying flat. 

“You just have to work on your timing. Especially now,” she said. She should tell him; now was as good a time as any. They were alone. The crisis was passing. And she didn’t want to wait a second longer. Too many days had already passed with her holding this secret. She wanted to see the silly look on his face. She fought back a smile. “With the baby coming.” 

“What baby?” he said, oblivious. 

“Steve.” 

“What? Whose baby?” 

She lost the battle against her smile. It was so broad her cheeks hurt. She couldn’t keep teasing him no matter how dense he was being. She took one of his hand resting on her back and moved it to her stomach. 

“I’m pregnant,” she said, knowing he needed her to spell it out. 

He looked as dopey and surprised as she had hoped. His face went completely blank, and she was tempted to wave her hand in front of his vacant eyes. He snapped back to life as something clicked. It had taken him a second to process. 

He whooped and lifted her off her feet. He spun her in a circle and hugged her closely. When he set her back down, brushed her hair off her face and kissed her. She drank it in. Both her hands moved to his face and traced his jaw. 

“A baby, a real baby, our baby, an actual kid,” he said when they broke apart. “Are you sure?" 

“I haven't been to a doctor, but yes fairly certain. All the signs are there.” 

He hugged her again and buried his face in the crook of her neck. He was shaking in her arms. She thought he might be crying for a moment, but she quickly realized it was laughter. 

“So, you’re happy?” she said, obviously knowing the answer. 

He released her a little and put his hand back on her stomach. 

“Of course. This is amazing, you know that?” he said. “Just about the most amazing thing in the world.” 

“I love you,” she said because it was the only response she could come up with. Her smile was still fixed on her face. 

“I love you too. So, so, so much. I can’t believe how lucky I am.” 

“How lucky _we_ are,” she corrected. She was still looking up at him and feeling the weight of his palm on her belly. “This whole time, all I wanted was to be able to tell you. I was so scared you'd never even know.” 

“Oh God, Peggy—” 

She interrupted him before he could try to apologize again. That wasn’t what she wanted. “You kept your promise. Hell or high water.” 

“Just a lot more hell than I was expecting. The compass points to you. I'm always coming to you. Always.” 

“It’s not _always_ in your control. I accept that—I’m not asking you to stay. You would never ask me to stay. Remember, we have to always fight for this.” 

“Come hell or high water.” 

“Let’s go home.” She kissed him again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Started for Steggy Week on Tumblr [#steggyweek2k16](https://www.tumblr.com/search/steggyweek2k16/recent)


	2. Chapter 2

Peggy tried to ask Steve if he wanted to take the car to Stark’s. She leaned out the bathroom door with her toothbrush still in her mouth.

He stared, and she assumed he hadn’t understood her. She spit, rinsed and tried again.

"Sorry, I asked if you wanted to drive today," she said.

He continued to stare.

"What are you looking at?" she said, facing him full on with her hands on her hips.

That question got a response. "You."

"Rogers, get to the point."

"I can see a bump."

She sucked in a gasp and put both hands on her belly. She had certainly noticed it swelling. Her veracious appetite catching up with the fact she had crossed into the second trimester. It wasn’t just a little extra weight around her middle but a mound. She had noticed her clothes getting tighter, but it was her body. She thought no one—even Steve—could tell from a distance.

He moved closer and motioned her to turn sideways again. She was suddenly self-conscious. Peggy was dreading the moment when a stranger asked her when she was due or offered her a seat on the subway. She didn’t want to have to tell anyone at the S.S.R. This child was hers and Steve’s. She wanted no one else’s thoughts or opinions. She and Steve had kept their marriage a secret for almost six months. Hardly anyone had even known Steve had been in the country.

When news broke, it had stayed in print for weeks; headlines like ‘SECRET WEDDING OF CAPTAIN AMERICA’ and ‘WARTIME HERO MARRIES WARTIME SWEETHEART’ accompanied by photos of her trying to hide her face followed her from newsstand to newsstand. She didn’t want to see what they would print about a baby.

"Yes, it’s definitely there," he said.

She stepped back into the bathroom and faced the mirror. Her blouse was still undone and her skirt wasn't buttoned yet. In no way was she ready to go yet. Her hair still had one curler in to shape the last stubborn section.

She took it out, pretending to focus on that instead of the examining her own body. Peggy had always her curves as they called it. Hips that swung in time as she walked. Breasts that made it easy to distract men when she needed it. She hadn't quite grown beyond those features, but her stomach was protruding if you knew what to look for. She thought the high-waisted skirt was enough camouflaged it.

He tucked behind her. She leaned against him as they both looked at the other’s reflection. He spread his big hand over her stomach. She loved the way his rough skin felt against her soft belly.

"It’s getting so real," he said. She didn’t point out it had been real for her since the first wave of nausea. "Feel anything?"

They had this conversation almost every day. He was desperate to feel a kick.

"No. No movement yet. I’m only at four months."

"I know."

"The doctor said I probably wouldn’t feel anything for another month, especially as a first-time mum."

"I know."

"I will tell you as soon as if feel anything."

"I know."

She bit her lip. The insecurity came back in a wave as she glanced back at her reflection again.

He noticed. "Can you hide it?"

"I have been," she admitted. "Or at least I’ve been drawing less attention to it. Wearing clothes that aren’t snug. I won’t wear a girdle—it seems unsafe."

"Don’t want to squish the little guy?"

"Of course not." She paused. "Can you really see it?" she asked again.

"I can, but I think that’s just me. Is that okay?"

"It’s a little late for that. This is real, as you pointed out. I’m just a little nervous, I suppose, after the way the papers hounded us after the wedding, and everyone at work. I’m not ready for the grand announcement. This is _our_ baby."

"We could get get back in bed if you’re feeling unsure," he said. "We don’t have to go today—we don’t have to tell anyone.”

"No, I want to go. I want his opinion."

He nodded again. "He just talks a lot."

Steve had been surprised when she had told him she wanted to tell Howard Stark about the pregnancy.

"I figured you wouldn't want to tell anyone," he had said.

"I don't really, but..." she had hesitated, unwilling to burst his bubble. He had been so blissfully happy since she had told him.

When the test confirmed she was pregnant, he’d cried. Her sweet, sensitive captain had burst into tears right in the doctor’s office. He was so overjoyed and she would ruin it.

It had taken long enough to get pregnant she had wondered if maybe they needed to see a specialist. To be honest, it had seemed a miracle they didn’t have several children already. They both lacked impulse control and forethought. Three years of marriage and they only had protection on hand some of the time. Even when they stopped using it all together, it had taken months.

His physiology had been tampered with; she had physically been through a lot too. Who knew what that could mean for the future?

Her doctor had said everything looked fine, but Stark had knowledge about the serum that no one else had. She wanted everyone making sure her child was okay. ‘Everything looked fine’ was not good enough for her child.

She had explained and Steve’s face had fallen. A little fear had crept into his eyes. She hated herself for putting it there. But it had to be said.

"You think something's wrong," he had said.

"No! I want to make sure it’s not." She had put a hand to her stomach without realizing it.

"You think I—I don't know—passed something on?" he had asked.

"I hope you did, but just the normal amount of things. I want to see your blue eyes and your protective nature. And I want to make sure everything is okay."

That had been nearly a month ago. It had taken a while for Stark to return to the city and then to stick to a visit. She wouldn’t explain why she wanted to see him so he hadn't seen it as a priority. They would see each other when they saw each other as they always had.

If she gave up this so-called appointment, she might not get another.

"We’ll just have to impress upon him how important it is he keep his mouth shut," she said now.

"And how we gonna to do that?"

"A little threatening usually keeps him in line."

"Threatening? We’re gonna be great parents."

She saw her own horror in the reflection and she was close to tears. Her eyes were wide and glassy and it was taking all her strength to keep her bottom lip from trembling. The baby was causing some emotional instability. A few months ago, a comment like that wouldn’t have bothered her in the least. 

"Please don’t say things like that when I am feeling this way," she said and her voice cracked.

She pulled away from him and fled the bathroom.

"Oh Jesus, Peggy, I’m so sorry," he babbled, following her into the bedroom. "I was joking. Just teasing. You’re going to be a great mom. Don’t worry. Look, you’re already taking such good care of the kid. I never even occurred to me that the serum might have some kind of effect. It didn’t even cross my mind. We’re taking all these extra steps because of your concerns. You’ll be great."

"I know you were joking," she said firmly. She went back to the closet to find something else to wear.

He came as close as he dared and sat on the edge of the bed.

She knew he hadn't meant what he said, but he couldn't shake the way the comment had hit her like an arrow on a bullseye. He must be doing a better job of hiding that he was nervous too. Or maybe it was just because she was doing all the work at the moment.

The morning sickness had eased to be replaced by a constant need to eat. It was her body that was changing. She would have to field the questions at work, deal with the judgment. He would get only congratulations. She would get the sideways looks and the wonders why she wasn’t at home. She was the one who would have to give birth.

Jokes about parenting skills, a topic she wasn’t worrying about at this moment, didn’t calm her. It was like he had handed her something else large to carry when she wasn’t supposed to be doing any heavy lifting.

She didn't look at him as she pulled off her skirt. She picked out one that was a little looser, flowier—she had been wearing it a lot recently.

Behind her, she heard Steve get up and open a dresser drawer. He was holding out the belt that went with the skirt when she turned around. A peace offering.

"Honey, I’m really sorry. I'm useless," he said.

She took the belt for him. "I know," she said and waited for him to pick up on exactly what she meant.

"Hang on," he said after a pause. "You know I didn't mean it or you know I'm useless?"

"Take your pick, Rogers," she said.

He leaped for her and she tried to dodge out of his reach but he was too quick. He pulled her back onto the bed and onto his lap as she half-heartedly tried to wriggle free. She wrapped one arm behind his neck and squeezed his cheeks with her other hand.

"Let me go," she said, squeezing just tight enough to make a fish face.

"As long as you promise to keep telling went I get it wrong. It's the only way I know what to do next time," he said and his words were squished.

"That is a promise I can keep." She let go of his face and kissed him.

The worry had fled. Sometimes she carried the weight on her own, sometimes they shared it, and sometimes he took the load completely.

She loved his man. It wasn't perfect, but it was theirs. They were always busy, always away. They brought their work home with them. They fought loudly and not infrequently. They were both stubborn, reckless, and took their frustrations out of one another. They sulked. But they also brought out the best in each other. They were more courageous, compassionate, wiser for each other. They had to be to protect the gift they had been given. Their second chance. Their dance. 

Who could have imagined she would end up here? Once upon a time, she had thought it the only path. At nineteen, she had thought her life was going according to plan until it had taken a rather drastic turn. She realized she had been following other’s plans, not her own, so she had sidestepped and hadn't looked back. She hadn't thought much about being a wife or mother since then. Never ruling it out, but also not fretting.

Until she met the right person. The right partner.

She pulled back from the kiss and he let her go.

"Give me a few more minutes," she said. "And we can leave."

**

Steve took her hand as Peggy reached for the bell. It rang deep within the house. They waited on the front step of Stark’s mansion. He had asked her three times on the way over if she was sure she was up for the visit today.

He looked at her again.

"Don’t fuss," she said before he could open his mouth.

The door flew open, but it wasn’t a stately Mr. Jarvis who was on the other side. Mrs. Jarvis came spilling out and she had swooped down on Peggy for a grand hug. She squeezed, rocking back and forth, and Peggy could only hang on.

It had taken a few false steps on Peggy’s side before she allowed herself to be forgiven for what had happened during her time in Los Angeles. Since then, the two women had remained close, but now Peggy panicked. This wasn’t supposed to be the big announcement.

Peggy hadn’t known Ana was in town. Jarvis was a given if Stark was around, but his wife was a shock.

"What a surprise!" Peggy said and hoped she managed to sound happy. "What are you doing in here, darling?"

Ana let go. "Decided to come along when the boys headed east despite the quick trip. Fates aligned."

"Indeed."

"And Mr. Rogers too!" Ana descended on Steve next.

Jarvis appeared and warm greetings were passed around to him too as he showed them in. Howard appeared moments later.

"Are my favorite superheroes here?" he boomed, taking up twice as much space as most people.

The entire round of hellos started up again.

"God," said Howard, looking directly at Peggy. "Has it really been that long seen I’ve seen you or are you getting thick around the middle?"

He patted his own stomach and winked.

Peggy’s mouth fell open. For a man who prided himself on his womanizing, he could be utterly clueless. She was too stunned for even the urge to hit him to overtake her. He had come from a side hallway and must have caught her at just the right angle. He was an observant son of a bitch and a blabber mouth. Why couldn’t he keep anything to himself?

A full chorus of ‘Howard!’ was aimed his way. Stark was helpless against the onslaught. He even put up his hands in surrender.

"I didn’t mean it like that! I meant she looks in the family way!" he said.

The sounds died at once. Howard too went silent as he realized what he was suggesting was entirely possible.

Everyone rounded on Peggy and it was too much. The eyes of some of her dearest friends all pinned on her and asking a life changing question. She couldn’t come up with a suitable lie.

"I won’t let you talk to my wife that way," Steve said and his bad acting as good as confirmed it, but Howard and the Jarvises were still looking at Peggy.

"Well, as a matter of fact, I am," she said over Steve’s attempt.

She felt hot and embarrassed like she was having to defend herself. It felt like an accusation. This was supposed to be happy, but she hadn’t wanted to tell anyone like this. These were her friends. What was she going to do when she had to tell her coworkers? When the rest of the world found out?

"We came here to ask for Mr. Stark’s help," she continued before the reactions could begin. "I want an expert in serum to make sure everything will be okay. Will you help?"

"Of course, Peg. Not even a question. Whatever you need," said Stark. His face was filled with such genuine care she forgave him for spilling her secret. "As long as I get to be godfather."

And he was back.

She laughed. The weight had come and gone again.

Ana dove forward again and pulled Peggy into another hug. She let go and took Peggy’s face in both hands. She kissed each cheek.

"What marvelous news! Congratulations!" Ana said.

"Thank you, Mrs. Jarvis," Peggy said and hope she conveyed all that she meant.

This is not how she would have chosen to tell Ana.

Jarvis was standing off to the side struggling in vain not to cry. He kept covering his mouth and wiping his face. He came towards Peggy. He swept her up in a hug now but didn’t give her a chance to lift her arms so they were pinned out at an odd angle.

He blubbered something she couldn't understand but might have been a congratulation. She awkwardly patted him on the back.

He stepped back. "Wonderful. Truly wonderful. I’ll get the tea," he said and wandered away.

Ana followed. "He will be useless for a while."

Now, Stark came forward. He gave her a kiss on the cheek. "Congrats. Big news. Big deal."

"Thank you," said Peggy. "And thank you for helping."

"I mean it. Anything you need."

Peggy looked at Steve; he had his stupid grin back on his face. She smiled back.

"I think Jarvis prepared something for your visit. Shall we?" Stark said, gesturing the way the Jarvises went.

"I’d like to get this out of the way," said Peggy. She wanted to give the Jarvises a moment as well.

Stark switched directions without missing a beat. Peggy and Steve followed. He took her hand as they walked. She gave his a squeeze while her free hand traveled over her belly.

Stark led them into the lab. Peggy hadn’t been here since the night she and Jarvis had gone searching for Stark’s bad babies. It was much the same. She hoped he saw order in the chaos.

In a back section, he pulled a dusty sheet off an examination table. He patted the cold surface and Peggy hopped up.

Steve pulled up a wooden box to sit on and he was a head or so shorter than she was. He rested his hand on her knee. God, he always had to be touching her. She didn’t mind it, liked it even, but it had become so much more since she got pregnant. He always had to be next to her, brushing up against her, holding her hand. All his protective instincts were at level ten. Maybe higher now they were with Stark.

"I’ll be honest, I’m," Stark chose the word carefully as he moved around the lab, "surprised."

"Surprised about what?" asked Steve.

"He means either that we are having a child or that it isn’t our third," said Peggy.

"Something like that," said Stark. "Erskine and I wondered what side effects there would be. The ones we couldn’t see, I mean. I’m sorry to say we ran some experiments on your husband, Mrs. Rogers."

"I hadn’t noticed," she said. "It is the sort of thing I was referring to."

"Has your doctor said anything?"

"Everything was normal at three months."

"Normal size? The little tyke isn’t growing too fast? If there is serum, which I’m guessing is the issue you are worried about, I think the kid would be showing signs."

"Normal," repeated Peggy. "Healthy."

"I’m sure it will stay that way. I’ll take blood. Then, I have a something else to show you."

Stark gathered a few medical supplies. Peggy watched him carefully clean everything.

"Just from my arm, right?" she asked as he approached with the first needle. She wrapped her other arm across her rounded belly again. Her protective instinct was rather high too.

"For today. This is preliminary," said Stark.

She rolled up her sleeve, and he took three vials with practiced hands.

"I’ll run tests. Let you know," he said.

"That’s is?" said Steve.

"One more thing," Stark said with a mischievous smile. "You’re gonna like this. I have been dying to test it out."

"I don’t like the sound of that," Peggy said.

"Not going to hurt a bit."

"It’s not me I’m worried about."

"Lie down."

"What are you doing?" she asked as leaned back.

He didn’t answer her question. He was digging around in stacks lining a wall. 

"This isn’t my invention, but they asked for help." There was a loud crash as a huge pile hit the floor. He left it all where it fell and dragged out a cart with a huge boxy machine on it. "I made improvements, but I didn’t get around to sending it back." He came back to the examination table. "Lift your shirt, Peg."

"Stark," warned Steve. He had stood up and moved beside Peggy’s head.

"Not all the way! Geez, you kids are squares."

"We are not," said Steve.

"You are, dear," said Peggy.

She untucked her shirt, but hesitated a moment before revealing her bare stomach. She was really going to zero to sixty. Until half an hour ago there were only three people who had known Peggy was pregnant: Steve, Angie, and the doctor. She had just doubled that number and was now showing off her belly.

From this angle, the baby bump was very obvious. She looked up at Steve again and he was, of course, grinning.

Stark unwound a wand from the machine and squeezed a gel onto the end. He stuck it against her skin. Peggy shuddered; it was cold. Steve twitched when she gasped.

Before he could do anything, the machine jumped to life. Stark moved the wand around on Peggy’s stomach. Suddenly, he smiled. He shoved the screen around so they could see it.

In very grainy black and white was the outline of a baby. The speakers played a steady, watery thump, thump, thump. The baby’s head was most visible with a clearly defined nose, chin. Something that might have been a foot. And Peggy melted.

"Meet junior," Stark said. "Pretty neat, huh?"

"It’s close to a miracle," she said. Usually, she was more careful about giving Stark that kind of praise.

"It uses sound waves with frequencies—"

"Stark? We don’t care."

"Right."

"Is that our baby?" Steve said in awe.

"Of course it is, darling," said Peggy.

Stark dragged Steve over and made him hold the wand. "I’ve got better things to do than stare at it with you." He made himself scarce.

"Look at that. Very real," Steve said. 

There was a long pause as they just stared. She could have listened to the sounds for the rest of her pregnancy. 

The image shifted and half of it disappeared. 

"What’d I do?" he said. 

He was holding still with the wand pressed against her skin.

"I think the baby moved."

"Did you feel it?"

She laughed at him softly. "You are desperate. I think she’s too small."

"She? Do you see something?"

"Just a feeling."

He was staring at the screen again. "Do you think we can tell if it’s a boy or a girl?"

"I can barely tell it’s a baby."

"Peg, be nice," he said with a snort. "It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen."

"She is."

Stark reappeared.

"Anything?" Peggy asked.

"Not yet. I’ll have to send it to my main lab. All anonymously," he said. "I’ll let you know."

"Anything you suspect?" The look on his face was not one of someone who found nothing. "Don’t spare my feelings," she added.

She sat up and the screen went dark. Stark handed her a towel. She wiped off the gel off her stomach and hid it beneath her shirt again. Steve leaned against her leg when she swung it over the side on the table.

"There are signs of anomalies in your blood," Stark said.

Peggy’s breath caught.

"But nothing threatening," he continued. "The kid seems to take after his dad already."

"My child will be Captain America Junior?" she said.

"I wouldn’t go that far." Stark’s boyish grin was back and Peggy tried to relax. "The traces are minute, but could explain everything."

"What do you mean everything?" Steve said.

"The good doctor and I didn’t think you’d be able to procreate."

"Stark!" said Peggy. "You never told him?"

"We didn’t think it was would be a problem, and we didn’t know for sure."

"Bloody Nora."

"I knew it would affect everything," said Steve. "It was worth the risk, and I didn't have any prospects at the time."

"You had me," said Peggy, and she was speaking only to Steve, not caring that Stark was still there. "We’ve been trying all this time."

"I didn’t think. It didn’t occur to me that there would be ongoing—I just didn’t think. I’m sorry."

"You don’t have to apologize. I’m trying to get the facts." She sighed. "What does this mean, Stark?"

"I think you’ll have a tough kid. He made it this far."

"She," said Peggy and Steve at the same time.

"Whatever gets your rocks off."

"This is serious, Stark, please," Steve said.

"Okay, what else can I say?"

"What does this mean for me and the child?" Peggy said.

"I don’t know. Nothing right now. If your doc says the baby is healthy."

That was some relief. For right now.

"I have another question." Peggy said. "Could there have been other pregnancies that didn’t thrive?"

Steve took her hand again.

"Possibly," Stark said in a tone that made it sound like it was more than a possibility. "But this is all medical stuff. Not really my wheelhouse."

She understood what he was getting at, understood his undertone. It had taken them a long time to get pregnant. There was a reason this was their first child instead of their third. The serum had caused problems, so this could be their only chance. It was luck that had given this baby an extra leg up, an extra shot. The serum that had changed their father had given the baby strength too. 

There was a new weight and suddenly Peggy just wanted to go home.

"Alright," said Steve. "Thank you for all this."

"I’ll keep looking. Make sure," said Stark.

"Thank you. Can we have a moment?"

"Sure, sure. I’ll go check on the tea. Find something a little stronger to celebrate with. Holler if you get lost," Stark said and left them alone.

The room seemed much larger with him gone. Peggy felt very alone except for Steve. He was watching her. She felt his eyes, but she didn’t look up. She was looking down at her lap. The bump was in the way.

"This is what I was worried about," she said at last.

"I know, sweetheart, but we’re on top of it. We have the best doctor, Stark, his lab. And you have me. I’m not going to let anything happen."

"I know we’ll do our best, but—"

"No buts." He kissed her on the top of her head. "That heartbeat sounded strong to me."

"It did, though, didn’t it?" She smiled and looked up.

He put his hand on her belly. One palm covered most of it.

"I know there’s a lot to be scared about, but I can’t quite muster it. I’ve never been so excited for the future. Our kid is tough—like her mom."

"Like her father. Too much like their father."

"Would Captain America Junior be so bad? What’s wrong with that?"

"My body has objections to that."

He bent down and pressed his cheek on her stomach now. She rubbed his back. "Tell your mother everything will be okay. Kick once for yes, kick twice for no." Nothing. "C’mon, just one for your old man."

They were sharing the load now. For now, there was nothing to be done but wait. Stark would look for more answers and she would do everything to keep her child safe and growing. The serum had been a godsend so far. It has saved Steve too many time to count. So far, it seemed to have saved their baby. She loved his child so much and she loved the future Steve saw so clearly. She was just a little more realistic than he was.

"You are hopeless," she said.

He straightened. "I want to be apart of this. Share in what you’re feeling."

"You have done quite enough."

"I thought you’d forgiven me for the morning sickness."

She took his chin and pulled him down for a kiss. "Only just."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading and thanks to [sokovianaccords (eurogirl)](http://archiveofourown.org/users/eurogirl) for being my beta!


	3. Chapter 3

Peggy marched down one of the hallways at the S.S.R. office. She rounded a corner and almost bumped straight into Lucas Kidd, a member of Steve’s tactical team. Like the rest of the group, he was big and broad, but taller and less bulky than most. Even still, it would have been like running into a brick wall. 

"Goodness," she said and put a hand to her six-month pregnant belly.

She couldn’t hide it anymore. Surprisingly, no one had made an ado about her pregnancy. The grand announcement with all its questions and looks and judgments had never happened, and as she had grown larger, people figured it out on their own. The men tended to treat her in one of two ways. They either refused to look anywhere below her collarbone or treated her like she could go off at any moment. But overall, they had acted uninterested. Or too scared of her to comment. She hoped it was the latter.

Kidd was in the second camp, but it seemed to be out of affection rather than a misguided need to protect her. All the men on Steve’s team were fiercely loyal to him and that extended to his best girl. The tactical teams operated largely on their own but they were still part of her command. She was their chief, so that added another level. She allowed them to operate differently than even the other teams and had gone to bat for them half a dozen times to preserve that. Since they worked with Steve and cared so much about him and each other, they had a special place in her heart too.

"Damn. Sorry, Carter. Are you alright?" he asked, looking ready to spring into action, rush her off to the hospital if need be.

"Yes, of course," Peggy said. "I’m looking for Captain Rogers." He rarely came into the office, but she knew he was around somewhere.

"Tactical meeting. I was heading back."

"I hope he has a stack of requisition forms in front of him."

"Umm, I don’t know if—maybe?"

"I don’t want to interrupt, but could you send him to my office when you’re done?"

"They were shooting the shit when I left." He closed one eye with regret at his own choice of language.

"Please," she said. "I said worse at breakfast."

He snorted. "Yes, ma’am."

"Ask Captain Rogers about the time during the war they used my sailor’s mouth as a distraction."

Kidd looked impressed "How?"

"You’ll have to ask him." She began walking away. "I was too intoxicated to remember all the details."

He was definitely impressed. It was good to remind the men, even the ones on the peripheral, that she could hold her own, and always would be able to.

She went back to her office, knowing Steve would toddle along shortly. He was always quick to respond when the chief needed him. Not that he neglected her when she was only his wife.

As expected, it didn't take Steve long to stick his head through the doorway.

"You wanted to see me, chief?" he said. He was always so respectful of her authority.

She motioned him in. He took a giant step through the door and closed it behind him. He seemed nervous, so she waited for a beat.

"Paperwork, Rogers," she said at last. "The requisitions were due yesterday."

"Ah, Peg," he said, sounding like a little boy being told to do his homework, which, she supposed, was exactly what she was doing. 

As much as she loved giving orders, the accompanying paperwork was not as much fun. It was endless and harder than herding cats when her men—including her own husband—didn’t hand in anything on time. She hadn’t been much better when she was a field agent, but her performance wasn’t in question at the moment.

"If you stayed on top of it, I wouldn’t have to hound you." She pointed her pen at him. "I have half a mind to uninvite you to dinner."

"You go too far," he said with a smile as he realized she wasn’t speaking to him like the chief.

Angie was back in town, and this time for the foreseeable future. She was going to be on Broadway, at last. Peggy thought she had gone looking for a production to have a reason to come home. She’d been in L.A. for almost seven years; she was ready to come home. They were all getting dinner tonight at a nice place uptown.

"There have to be consequences," Peggy said.

Steve got a devilish grin on his face. "Would a candy bar buy me some extra time?"

She narrowed her eyes in suspicion, and he produced a Kit Kat bar. He had come armed to the teeth.

She had always had a sweet tooth, but since getting pregnant, it had been insatiable. There was always something close by with chocolate in her desk drawers, cookies in the cabinet at home, butterscotch candies in her handbag beside her pistol. She found herself incapable of passing a bakery without stopping. It wasn’t just her middle that was growing; she was fuller all over.

"Payment is acceptable," she said and held out her hand. 

Steve leaped forward and placed it in her palm, and she tore into it before he had even sat down. He dragged in an extra chair from in front of her desk around so he could be beside her. He covered her belly with both hands, waiting.

The baby went mad after Peggy had any kind of sweets, almost as if they were dancing. Steve loved every second and was thoroughly encouraging her habit.

She leaned back in her seat even further to give him more room.

"How are you feeling today?" he asked without looking up.

"The same as when you asked me this morning."

He mimicked even her accent, and said, "Fine, darling?"

"Precisely." He gave her a look, so she elaborated. "I’m hungry and my back hurts, and both things have been true for months now."

Peggy wasn’t complaining. So far, it had been an easy pregnancy. Morning sickness had abated around the start of the second trimester, and she was still energetic, having adjusted to her changing body without trouble.

"Your back hurts from sitting hunched over your desk all day."

Now she gave him a look. "I spend all day at my desk doing paperwork because my men don’t get things done on time."

He backed off immediately. "Okay, okay, you’re right."

The baby gave a powerful kick. She moved his hand to the spot. If it was possible, this smile got a little bigger and she couldn’t help but mirror him. She reached over to put a hand on his shoulder to complete the circle.

She let him enjoy himself until the baby had settled down before speaking again.

"I do need that paperwork," she said. "I know the requisitions are tedious, but—" More kicks and a somersault. She looked down at her belly. "Excuse me, I am trying to give your father a stern lecture about the importance of paperwork."

Steve laughed. He bent over and pressed his cheek to her middle. "You better listen to your mother. She runs a tight ship."

Usually, nothing made the baby quiet down like Steve’s voice. No matter what he said, the baby always stopped to listen. But the sugar rush from the chocolate bar was no match for even him.

The baby kicked right against Steve’s cheek.

"Mean right hook," he said.

She smiled. "I think that was a foot."

"Mother knows best."

"She does," Peggy said smugly. "So, you should know to listen by now."

"Paperwork. End of day. Scout’s honor."

"I’m going to have Winnie check before she leaves."

Winnie was the office manager, so she ran most of the operations and acted as Peggy’s right-hand woman. She was a small, unassuming woman whose size and manners belied how tough and capable she was. Steve was a little scared of her. If Peggy had really wanted the paperwork, she would have sicced Winnie after him.

"Where are you going?" Steve said, sitting up but not letting go of her. 

His attention was on rubbing her belly again. This was why he never had any details.

"I have a meeting off-site. I have told you six times."

"Oh right. Want me to come?" he said.

"Did you really just ask if you could come with me to a meeting? I will not list all the things wrong with that, but I’ll start with you swore up and down you would get the paperwork finished."

He shot her a guilty grin.

"I’m leaving in a few minutes and you have your own tasks to do."

"Yes, ma’am."

She tried to get up, but he wouldn’t let go.

"If I’m late..." She didn’t need to finish her sentence. 

He laughed, released her, and she got to her feet at last. Steve let her pass and then got up himself. She didn’t look at him as she went to the coat stand. He followed and leaned against the wall beside her, watching. She pulled on a heavy camel-colored coat and her belly disappeared as she did up the buttons.

He grabbed her scarf and looped it around her neck. He fiddled with it until she gently took his hand and put them at his side.

"I have to go," she said.

"Have fun," he said without much enthusiasm. He didn’t want her to leave.

He didn’t like how active she still was. She had pulled out of the field almost entirely, but she wouldn’t give up the rest of her work until she had to. He hadn’t actually said anything about it out loud, but she knew what he was thinking by now. She didn’t mind his being overprotective since it came from the best place. He wanted his family safe; she understood that, but he couldn’t lock her up in a tower. There was nothing to worry about. She was only going to a meeting in an office building with people they both knew.

"See you at dinner. Seven o’clock." She reached up and planted a kiss on his cheek. "I want that paperwork finished."

He groaned. She gave him a wicked grin as she headed out the door.

***

Peggy was in trouble. Not a lot of trouble, but it still wasn’t good. They’d started following her a block away from the building where her meeting had been. The tail was three men: one tall, one short, and one in a hat with a green band. They were wearing suits and carrying briefcases. They fit in seamlessly with the flocks of business workers rushing up and down the sidewalks.

The tall one had been sloppy, or maybe he had underestimated her. He had been loitering in the lobby and had snapped to attention when she had appeared. It had caught her attention enough she had watched him leave. He had gone in the opposite direction once outside, so she had thought she was being suspicious. Still, she kept an eye out for him and saw him again before she had reached the next avenue. He must have done an about-face before even reaching a corner.

She had caught him signaling to the short one, and she knew she had two people behind her. Then, she caught the short one signaling to the one in the hat and she knew she was truly outnumbered.

She was still walking, going blocks passed the subway station. The evening was cold, and the sun had set hours ago. It was too cold to keep it up much longer; a sensible person would take the train or catch a cab.

She had to stop to wait for a traffic light.

She felt their eyes, their paces behind her. For now, they were keeping their distance and if she kept moving, she thought they would stay that way. They didn’t know she knew they were following her. For all they could tell, she was just walking uptown, but they would get suspicious soon.

Best case scenario, they wanted her lead them to her apartment, but nothing in the world would make her go there now. She wasn’t about to take them to her home. If they were using her to get to Captain America, she had to protect Steve. 

The problem was the other person she was desperate to protect was with her, leaving them both vulnerable. Her hands were deep in her pockets around her belly as if it might offer a little protection for what she carried.

She needed a destination, somewhere safe that didn’t lead them anywhere significant. She had several places in mind, but there would be no one there to receive her. If she couldn’t shake the tail, she would need backup and there was only one person she trusted for that. But Steve didn’t know she was in trouble. Without a plan, she was starting to panic.

She took a deep, steadying breath and her exhale came out in a great white plume in the cold air. It reminded her of a dragon.

She was better than this.

" _Are you an agent or not_?" she asked herself.

Agent Carter didn’t panic.

The light changed again, and she squared her shoulders before crossing.

Another block over, she found a cafe and slipped inside. Half the room was devoted to little tables that wouldn’t have looked out of place in Paris. The other side had large glass case filled with pastries and a long counter where one could stand while drinking a cup of coffee. It was the kind of place that would be packed for the morning rush, but it was almost empty now. No one stood at the counter apart from Peggy and there was only one couple at a table.

For once, the pastries didn't appeal to her, so Peggy ordered a coffee and asked to borrow the telephone. She smiled sweetly when she spoke, and the man behind the counter was helpless.

She dialed the office’s open line. Winnie answered.

"New York Bell Company," she said. "How may I direct your call?"

"Hi, it’s Peg," she said as casually as possible. "Has my husband left yet?"

No one listening would suspect one of the heads of a powerful intelligence agency was calling her own office.

Winnie picked up the ruse at once. "Is everything alright?" she said.

"Yes, but there’s a small hiccup." That meant there was a problem. The smaller the hiccup the bigger the problem.

"Hold on," Winnie said.

The line went quiet. Peggy tapped toe on the floor; she couldn’t wait long. She had to keep moving because the longer she stood still the more ground the men gained. She undid her coat and loosened her scarf, stifling in the cozy cafe.

The door opened and the man with the hat came in. Up close, she saw he was thin with sharp cheekbones, reminding her of a subway rat. He dropped his briefcase on the counter. She realized it wasn’t a briefcase. It was too big, more like a doctor’s bag.

The man was looking at her with hunger in his eye and concealed a gleeful smile. She had a second, larger, more jarring realization. This tail wasn’t looking for Captain America. They had their quarry in their sights: her.

"Just wanted to check in," Peggy said to the empty line. She put on an American accent to muddy the waters. "See you soon."

She hung up, knowing no help was coming.

Peggy didn’t move yet. She took a sip of her coffee. It was too soon to leave especially with the man in the hat beside her. Leaving immediately would make it clear she hadn’t actually stopped for the coffee.

Her mind was spinning. She didn’t even know where Steve was. If he was still in the office, he would now know she was in trouble. If he was in transit, she wouldn’t be able to get in touch with him for a while, anyway. Without him, she still wouldn't risk any of the empty safe houses. She needed another option.

The baby gave a good, strong kick. She let half a smile cross her face. The baby was still too small for her feel every movement. She had to still and concentrating. Every time she felt something it filled her with relief. The baby was healthy, and every kick reminded Peggy. Even now.

"Cold out there, isn’t it?" said the man. His voice was even so slightly accented.

Peggy made a noise of agreement but didn’t look at him. She took another sip of coffee.

"I hope you have somewhere warm to go to," he said.

"Just waiting for my husband to finish work," she said, still with the American accent.

"My bus is not for hours. Too cold, too late to enjoy the city sights."

She turned towards him to tell him to leave her alone. His gaze flicked to her pregnant stomach and he couldn't hide his smile anymore.

"I hope both of you need not wait long," he said.

Peggy instinctively pulled her coat around her again. "Keep your eyes to yourself."

"My apologies, madame. I mean no harm. I am but a weary traveler trying to start a conversation."

"Well, I am but a New Yorker—we mind our own business."

"Again, I meant no harm."

She didn’t believe him. He was absently tracing his finger along the clasp of his bag.

Peggy pretended to check her watch. "Enjoy your evening," she said coolly and left.

What did he have in store for her? What was he hoping to gain by confronting her in public? It was a bold move, and it frightened her. The entire point of a tail was to observe, to track, to follow. That he had engaged with her was against the rules of espionage.

She had to get off the grid. Now.

There was only one other place she could think of.

" _Alright, little one_ ," she thought, " _time to go to work_."

She hurried, hoping to get ahead of at least the man in the hat. There was no point in pretending she didn’t know they were after her. Up one street, over another, then down the next. She ducked into a bodega, slipped through the laden shelves, and out the back. She started her zigging and zagging again. They had to know by now she was trying to lose them.

At every turn, every stoplight, she scanned for their faces. All her tricks and turns were adding up, and she was beginning to think she had lost them, but she wasn’t ready to trust it yet. She imagined hot breath on the back of her neck.

Peggy continued uptown and soon the business workers that had filled the sidewalks were replaced with slow moving tourists. She didn’t mind because it was what she was after. Times Square was the busiest corner in the entire city and the crowds would make her harder to track. If she would be able to lose anyone, it would be there.

Another traffic light stopped her right before she reached the heart of the area.

A taxi pulled up to the curb, and a woman leaped out, pulling shopping bags with her. Without hesitating, Peggy got in before the other woman could shut the door.

"The Plaza," she said. "There’s a large tip if you drive quickly."

He didn’t ask any questions, but said, "Yes, ma’am."

As he spoke, the light changed, and they took off. Peggy gripped the door handle with one hand and kept the other over her stomach.

This was a risk, and she didn’t mean the way he was driving. This was the faster way to travel, but it was less nuanced. Traffic, pedestrians, and more traffic lights could spell disaster. She was also relying on someone else and the tail could be in a car right behind her.

The driver was good and not above breaking the rules. It was indeed faster—and much warmer. It seemed moments later they were outside the hotel. She passed over the fare plus an extraordinary tip as the car pulled up.

She was out the moment the taxi stopped. Ignoring the doorman, she hurried inside and straight for the elevator bank. She ignored the lift operator too and jumped into one alone. As the doors closed, she surveyed the grandiose lobby. There was no sign of the tall one, the short one, or the one in the hat.

She got off a few floors too early and pressed a few more buttons to send the lift bouncing around the hotel. Hopefully, the tail wouldn’t be able to tell which floor she was on even if they were closer than she thought.

Following the signs, she found the stairwell was dim and plain cinder block. She hoped it meant it wasn’t usually used by guests. She would hear anyone coming.

That was the only mercy the stairwell offered. Her gaze rose up and up to the turns of the structure. She couldn’t see the exit she needed. It would have been a long way to go even if she wasn’t so pregnant.

Not that she wasn’t still fit and capable. However, the extra baby weight, the shift in the center of her gravity, the long day at the office, and her race to safety had taken a toll. She could admit she was tired—she was growing a new life, goddamnit, and this wasn’t how she had planned on spending her evening.

She gave a heavy sigh. If she didn’t keep moving, she was going to either get caught or miss her window.

She reached for the hand railing and up she went.

When at long last she reached the floor, she carefully moved out into the hallway. There was no one there. She walked down the passage and wrapped her knuckles on the door. It was the another stroke of luck she had already had the room number.

After what felt like a long, exposed wait, she heard footsteps on the other side. Then, the handle turned and Angie's face appeared in the gap as the door opened.

"Hey!" Angie said cheerfully. "I thought we were meeting at the restaurant."

The lift dinged down the hall and there was no time for pleasantries. Peggy shoved her way inside, closing the door behind her so not even the latch clicked.

"What the hell, Peg?" Angie said and Peggy shushed her.

Angie closed her mouth, realizing something was wrong.

Peggy pressed her eye to the peephole. How had she been so careless? They shouldn’t have been so close. Maybe she _had_ panicked.

Peggy didn’t answer and Angie's question. The lift was outside her range of vision, so she didn’t yet know who it was. An elegant man and woman in a fur coat strolled by arm in arm.

Peggy sighed and turned to face Angie, leaning against the door. She let out a shaky breath. There was no triumph in her escape.

"What is going on?" Angie said in a whisper.

"I was followed," Peggy said in a normal volume. 

"Excuse me?"

"Three men followed me from a meeting."

"Christ! Are you okay? How’s the baby?" Angie asked in a serious tone.

"I’m a little shaken, but I think the baby is doing well. I didn’t mean to bring this mess here. I couldn’t think of anywhere else."

"No, I'm glad you did. I'll call the front desk." She moved to a phone on the night stand between two the queen-sized beds that dominated the suite. "Security will take care of it. I’ll say they’re photographers."

"Angie, darling, it wasn’t them."

Peggy was breathing again.

Even if the tail had followed her all the way to the hotel, they couldn’t know what floor she was on or which room she was in. There were almost twenty floors to search, including the numerous ballrooms, restaurants, and the like. The knot in her stomach didn’t loosen, but at least she started breathing again.

Angie stopped with her hand hovering above the phone. "Oh, I guess I got ahead of myself."

"So ready to spring into action," Peggy said with a small smile.

"Ready to help," Angie said. "They can't just be letting dangerous men in the hotel. I would've blabbed and the hotel would lose all its high-profile guests."

"Like you?" Peggy said, suddenly fighting back emotion.

How many times had she dumped her problems in Angie's lap? How many times had Angie picked them up without a moment's hesitation? Angie had been there for Peggy. In some ways, more than Steve even had. She had helped Peggy after he had disappeared. Both times. She had pulled Peggy off a ledge to safety once. And she had been an important root to normal life, to life outside of soldiers and spies.

"Yes," Angie said with a curt nod, "like me."

Peggy threw her arms around her best friend, holding her in a hug Mrs. Jarvis would admire. She realized her was close to tears. Angie felt it too.

"Hey, English. Good see you, too," Angie said gently. 

"You're a lifesaver," Peggy choked. "A goddamn lifesaver."

"Do what I can. For the kid, mind you."

They separated, and Peggy moved away from the door to drop onto the sofa in the sitting area of the large suite. She had to get off her feet and out of her layers. She unceremoniously yanked off her coat and scarf. She was hot and uncomfortable. Sweat rolled down her spine. The coat didn't really fit around her middle anymore.

"I’m so glad you were still here," she said as she stripped. "I knew there was a chance you’d already left for the restaurant."

Angie gasped and all Peggy's senses turned up to level ten. She cast wildly around, expecting someone to be emerging from a closet, but Angie was staring at her.

"Look at you!" Angie said and dove for the seat next to Peggy. She reached out, but then stopped. "May I?"

Peggy nodded and Angie pressed her hands to Peggy's stomach, completely in awe. Between the commotion and the coat, Angie must have missed how pregnant Peggy now looked. She had only been a few weeks along last time they had seen each other.

"I told you I’d grown large," said Peggy.

"Large? You look amazing."

"Oh please."

"I mean it—you’re glowing."

"Flatterer." Peggy pushed her curls of her hot neck.

"Will she say hello?" Angie said.

"You’ll have to ask her," Peggy said. 

They both looked down expecting something to happen. They waited and nothing.

"May I have a glass of water? As cold as can be," Peggy said.

Angie leaped up and went to the minibar to fill a glass. She came back to the sofa and passed it to Peggy. She gulped it down.

Right on cue, the baby kicked again. The cold water always woke the little thing up. Peggy took Angie's hand and placed it on the spot.

"There you are," Peggy said with a smile. "A proper hello for Auntie Angie."

Angie had to know what a baby kicking felt like; there was a bushel of kids in her family. They had all run around like mad when Peggy had gone to the Martinellis’ for Thanksgivings. Half of Peggy’s pregnancy tips came second hand through Angie from her sisters and cousins. Yet there was pure wonder on Angie’s face and an opened mouth smile.

"Those are good kicks," Angie said and Peggy had to laugh.

Like in the coffee shop, the movements filled Peggy with relief.

"You are as bad as Steve," Peggy said. "He can’t keep his hands off me."

"How is the big lug?"

The baby talk had been a moment’s reprieve, a minute to relax even though there was still the presence of danger. She and her child were safe for now, but they would have to step out of their hiding place sooner rather than later.

"He was fine the last time I saw him," Peggy said.

Angie let go of Peggy’s belly. 

“Peg?” 

“Ange?”

"You don’t think something happened to him, do you?"

"Those men were waiting for me, so there could be more waiting for Steve. I got half a message to him, so he knows there’s danger, but I wasn’t able to put a plan in place. We have so many contingency plans and what good are they now?" She leaned her head back and stared at the ceiling. "I’m frightened," she admitted.

"Of course. Strange men following you and with the nugget to worried about. Even if you are _the_ Agent Carter."

Peggy folded her arms across her middle and lifted her head so she could look Angie in the eye. "The baby is the only thing I’m worried about. I have a bad feeling this is about her."

Angie frowned, not understanding, but of course, she wouldn't.

She hadn’t told Angie about the serum yet. She and Steve had only talked about it a few times, including when the results from Stark’s lab had confirmed the first test.

"She inherited traces of the serum and that might be what they’re after," Peggy said.

"You’re an important agent, right? Steve is, well, who he is, right? Aren’t those the more likely targets?"

"Yes, but I have a feeling."

"Mother’s intuition," Angie said matter-of-factly.

She didn’t question Peggy. She had accepted Peggy was right. Just as she had called the baby ‘she’ as soon as Peggy told her she thought she was carrying a daughter.

"I’ve been so worried about what it could mean for the child I haven’t considered the outside factors."

Angie hesitated when she spoke next. "What—what does it mean? For the baby?"

"We don’t know. The baby is healthy, but there’s something special about her. With what was done to Steve, Stark didn’t think he could have children. Because this baby inherited some of it, it made them strong enough to overcome it."

"Oh, English," Angie said softly. "No wonder you’re scared. It was understandable before, but now it makes even more sense."

She was reading between the lines in the same way Peggy had when Stark had first told her and Steve. This baby could be their only chance. The thought wouldn't have distressed Peggy so much until after she had got pregnant. Biology didn't matter, but she was getting to know this baby and this was the baby she wanted to meet, to hold, to love.

"Does it make sense? It’s making me feel crazy." Peggy shook her head as if she was trying to clear it.

"Does it make sense you would want to protect your family? Yes, it makes perfect sense."

Peggy laughed a little at herself. "I suppose you’re right. I’m not usually such a worrier."

"That makes sense too." Angie reached out and squeezed Peggy’s hand. "What else can I do?"

"You’ve already done enough."

"What do you need?" she said.

"I need to talk to my husband."

"Well, try again. You call whoever you want." Angie gestured towards the phone. "We’ll stay right here until it’s clear. Make 'em wait in the cold until we know how to give them the slip."

"Who is we?" Peggy said as she lifted her head. "You’re recognizable—I won’t have them coming after you too. You have done more than enough."

"I'm not going to let you go out there alone."

"I’m not going to let you put yourself in harm’s way."

"I’m not going to let _you_ put yourself in harm’s way. You expect me to send you on your way with a wave bye-bye?"

"I’m not having this conversation."

"I’m not arguing about it. I’m your cover now. Deal with it."

Peggy puffed up her cheeks and let out her breath. She acquiesced. For now.

Angie nodded again, knowing she won. For now. "So, what next?"

The plan remained the same. She still needed to get in touch with Steve.

Peggy hauled herself to her feet and went to the telephone. She spoke to the hotel’s operated and was connected to the open line at the office again and again Winnie answered.

"New York Bell Company," she said. "How may I direct your call?"

"It’s me again. It’s Carter," Peggy said, still choosing innocuous words in case anyone was listening.

"We’ve been worried. Are you safe?" Winnie said.

"For now." She looked over at Angie and smiled. "Can I speak to my husband?"

"Of course, ma’am. One moment."

Peggy waited and rubbed her belly. Angie got up from the couch and moved to a bed. She sat on the edge with her legs crossed.

There was a rustling on the phone and then Steve said, "Peggy? Is that you?"

"Yes, darling, it’s me."

He sighed with relief and she imagined she could see his shoulders releasing.

"We’re alright," Peggy said. "I’m safe with Angie."

"I’m glad to hear it. What’s happening?"

"Three man tail," she said. "They were waiting for me after my meeting. I think I lost them, but we’re holed up for now."

"Damnit all. Are you sure you’re okay?"

"Don’t fuss."

"I’ll come to you."

"That is not how we do this. You know that."

"This is different. Everything is different."

"Steve—"

"The two people I love most in this world are in one package," he blurted out.

"Oh, my love," she said. "We’re alright. We were followed—that’s all."

"You can’t ask me not to worry."

"I need you not to fuss. I’m doing my best to stay calm here, but I don't need to be reminded what is at stake." Angie was listening carefully and at Peggy’s words, she reached up and took Peggy’s hand. "Angie is here with me. She’ll be my cover,"

"Thank her for me."

"I will."

"Okay, what’s the plan?"

"Third Ave?"

"You sure?"

"Yes," she said firmly. "I don’t like that they knew where I was outside the office. This has to be just us, alright soldier?"

"Yes, ma’am."

"I love you."

"I love you too. I’ll see you soon."

"Very soon. Bye," she said. 

He didn’t hang up.

"Rogers, hang up."

"I can’t!"

"Then, I will."

"You'll have to."

"Goodbye."

"Goodbye. I love you."

She hung up.

"Get what you need?" Angie asked.

Peggy sighed again. "I did. He said to tell you thanks."

"Of course. So, what are _we_ doing?"

She shook her head. "You don’t have to."

"What’s Third Ave?" Angie said, ignoring Peggy’s comment. "I’m guessing you are not actually meeting him on Third Ave."

"It’s a code. It’s the third in our list of plans. The first two involve the office."

"Wouldn’t they be helpful?"

"Because the men knew where I was, I am willing to trust only Steve. And you."

Angie didn’t press her. Peggy’s confidence had been shaken in her own agents. The tail had known her schedule. They hadn’t picked her up outside the telephone company; they had got to her at a private meeting.

"The third is only between me and Steve. We’ll meet on a corner outside a restaurant so it isn't too conspicuous to wait. Once we connect, we’ll go to a safe house."

"How do we get out of here?"

Peggy walked away and settled back on the sofa. She needed a moment to think, but her mind was still reeling. She was better than this and berating herself was only making it worse.

"Out the front door," she said at last.

Angie looked skeptical. "Isn’t there some trick?"

"Which is why the front door is can be the best option. If you could lend me a different coat, then I’ll pull up my scarf and we’ll be in business. They’ll be looking for different colors and they’ll be expecting me to be alone. You follow my lead and if it’s safe, we’ll get on the subway and be gone."

Angie nodded, already following Peggy’s lead.

***

Everything went remarkably to plan. A strange man followed them for a few blocks but not into the subway, so Peggy wasn't sure if it hadn't just been a coincidence. Angie didn't notice anything out of the ordinary until they were above ground again.

Angie grabbed Peggy's arm. Her fingers digging into Peggy's flesh even through her borrowed coat.

"I think there's someone following us," she hissed, leaning in to speak into Peggy's ear.

Peggy loosened her grip, moving Angie's arm so they were linked at the elbow.

"Well done, Agent Martinelli," she said with a small smile. "You spotted him much sooner than I would expect for an amateur."

"You're not concerned?"

"No, I'm not. He's one of my men—well, Steve's. I'll introduce you when we can stop."

Lucas Kidd, the agent from that morning, had picked them up as soon as they had left the hotel. His size made him less than ideal for a tail because he towered over most people. It was probably why he had been selected. He wasn't meant to blend in—he dared anyone who might wish Peggy harm to come closer. 

Kidd's presence had been both a relief to Peggy and a sigh of frustration. She and Angie were as good as safe. He could either already scared off a real tail—he very well might have chased off the other man—or could be there to defend them in a few long strides. That was the relief.

The frustration was that Steve had not adhered to the plan. Third Ave included no one else. It was supposed to be a rendezvous for just Peggy and Steve; it was how they connected in a crisis. Another agent meant Steve had included the office despite what Peggy had said. Steve was going to get an earful about protocol.

Twenty minutes later, Peggy turned them onto the street they had been circling for half that time. She wanted to make sure Kidd was the only one following them.

On the pavement, exactly where he should be, Steve waited. He was scanning the street, practically bobbing up and down to make sure he didn't miss anything.

His eyes met hers. Her heart soared at the sight of him and her view fractured as a few tears spilled over. Just seeing her husband made Peggy feel safer than she had behind a locked door of the hotel room, although his presence changed as much as Kidd's had. She did not to run to him though she couldn’t help but unhook her arm from Angie's and pull ahead.

"Hell or high water," he said breathlessly.

"Were you worried? You sent a guard, so we were perfectly safe. Which, while appreciated, is _not_ a part of the plan," she babbled. She was trying to distract herself, to keep her voice steady, to keep her body from shaking.

He didn't answer or even seemed to hear her words. She was a foot away by now. He reached out and took her by the elbow to pull her even closer. His lips met hers.

His hand traced up her arm, across her shoulder, and tangled in her curls. His other hand found its way naturally to her belly.

She had to pull away from the kiss so she could catch her breath. He didn’t let go of any other part of her. He pressed his forehead against hers. She closed her eyes and breathed.

This was so silly—she was Agent Carter. She had faced worse on her own, so much worse. She had run headlong into battle, flown on planes into war zones, stared down Nazis.

Everything had changed and Steve wasn’t the only one who had noticed. It had been the thought dominating her mind with every step. She couldn’t act like a battering ram as she usually did. Like Steve, she jumped. She leaped without thought of personal consequences. When there was someone to protect, something that needed saving, she never thought about what might happen to her. She acted. But not anymore. For now, she was sharing her body and she would do anything to protect her child.

"You’re safe," he reminded her.

"I was never worried," she lied.

He kissed her on the forehead; he knew she was lying.

"Are you sure you're alright?" he said.

"Right as rain."

He smiled.

For the first time, he looked away from Peggy to find Angie. He let go of Peggy and took a few steps towards Angie. He scooped her up in a bear hug that lifted her clean off her feet.

"You wonderful, wonderful woman!" he said. "Did Peg tell you I said to tell you thanks? 'Cause I mean it. Thank you! You wonderful woman!"

Angie was grinning stupidly and laughing, but her face said she wanted to be put down.

Peggy used the distraction to gather herself for a moment. She wiped away tears that hadn't fallen as she let out one more long breath.

"You are making a scene, Steve," she said, moving forward. "Kindly bring our dear friend back to earth."

He did as he was told but gave Angie a sloppy kiss on the cheek before letting her go completely. She wiped it away with the back of her hand, still laughing.

"Thank you," said Angie in Peggy's direction.

"He gets carried away."

"I was about to get carried away." Angie laughed again at her own joke.

"Though, it's I who should thank you. You pulled me off a ledge—"

"Again."

"—again and I'm so very grateful. Truly, I don't know how we'll ever repay you."

"Gosh, English, you don't need to do anything." Angie was blushing a little. "It was all for the baby, you know."

"We know, of course," said Steve. "But if there's ever anything, you name it."

Angie didn’t have time to answer because Kidd approached them.

"All clear," he said. "There’s a car around the corner waiting for you."

"Thank you, Agent Kidd," Peggy said. "This is Ms. Martinelli."

"Yes, ma’am. I, er, recognized her. Lucas Kidd, miss." He stopped just short of bowing to Angie.

Peggy just managed not to roll her eyes. "We are both grateful for the escort," she said.

"Happy to help out," he said. "Let’s get you home."

After some debate, the waiting car took Steve, Peggy, and Angie to the Rogers’ apartment and dinner was brought in.

Angie had planned to stay the night. She was back in the spare room she had slept in last time she had been in town after Steve had gone missing. It would have to be converted to a nursery soon.

None of them had much interest in staying up late and Peggy led the charge for bed.

Steve let her use their bathroom first, so she had already slipped under the covers by the time he finished.

She watched as pulled off his undershirt; he usually just slept in bottoms. She studied every inch of his powerful muscles, untouched by trauma or simple time. Muscles she had come to rely on so heavily for support.

He climbed into bed, but she didn’t turn off the lights. He glanced over at her and realized she was staring.

"What’s the matter?" he asked.

"I’m frightened," Peggy admitted for the second time.

He leaned against the headboard and pulled her close. From under his arm, she hugged his middle with her head against his smooth chest. He reached for her belly. The baby was kicking again.

"I won't let anything happen to you. Either of you," he said.

"That is not what I’m afraid of."

"I told you I should’ve come to the meeting," he said, not listening to her. "I had a feeling."

"You did not. Following me around like a shadow won't help anything."

"It’d make me feel better."

"I don’t need protection."

"Wait, are you sore because I let Kidd help tonight? I know you had reservations about how they knew where you were, but I trust my men."

Peggy did trust his men. They operated so independently they wouldn't have known their supervisor's supervisor's schedule. She couldn’t really argue with how Steve had handled the rendezvous. He had guessed where she had been and had sent backup.

She sat up. "This is not about trust. It’s about intent."

"Intent? Whose intention?"

"The men who followed me, dear," she said with a shake of her head. Sometimes she wondered how he survived day-to-day life, let alone a war.

"Oh right. You mean you’re worried about what they wanted?"

"Yes, that is exactly what I am worried about. I think they were after our child. For the serum. It’s easier to get to a baby than to Captain America I suppose."

Stark had said the amount was almost undetectable. But ‘almost’ meant the evidence was, in fact, detectable even if it took his fancy equipment. It didn't even seem to be having an effect. At every appointment, the doctor had said the baby was healthy, thriving. Even Stark’s worry that the baby would grow abnormally fast seemed unfounded, to Peggy’s relief. The baby was a perfectly average size. Perfectly everything, in Peggy's opinion.

"You don’t think this is about you or me or the S.S.R.?" He sounded pretty convinced already.

"I don’t. The attack on your mission, the serum, and what happened today—they feel like pieces of a puzzle. I don’t know how they are connected or what they mean but it’s all too much at once." Her voice was getting heavy again.

He pulled her over again, so she tucked against him.

"Okay, honey, we’ll look into it."

The words were not a comfort and anger flared. She pushed away again. "Do not patronize me, Steve."

"I’m not!" She gave him a cold look. "At least, I didn’t mean to. It’s been a hell of a day for both of us. I’m trying to make you feel better."

"Watch your tone, mister. I outrank you. I don’t need a bodyguard and don’t need you to placate me."

She got out of bed and pulled her dressing gown around her.

"Where are you going?" he asked.

"I would like a glass of water. Can I go to the kitchen without an escort?"

He wisely chose not to answer, but she caught him rolling his eyes as she turned.

She stormed out of the bedroom and into the kitchen to find Angie already filling a glass with water at the sink. Peggy stopped short and Angie looked up equally startled.

"Men!" Peggy said before Angie even opened her mouth. "Why do they think they can fix everything?"

"Beats me. Everything okay?"

Peggy took a deep breath and let all the anger out as she blew it out. "Yes, of course. Picking a fight I'm afraid. A bad habit we both have."

"I didn’t notice," Angie said.

Peggy laughed sarcastically.

Angie passed over the glass she had been filling for herself and got another from the cabinet. Peggy flopped into a kitchen chair and took a sip. Angie joined her at the table.

"Are you sure everything is okay?" Angie said.

Peggy shrugged. "It is, and it isn’t, but that’s our life." She rubbed her belly.

"You guys live in a strange world. So dangerous."

"Actually," said Peggy slowly. "There is something I wanted to talk to you about regarding that. I meant to bring it up at dinner, but things got in the way."

Angie's brow furrowed again.

Peggy continued. "Steve and I would like you to be the baby's godmother. If you were willing."

"Willing?" Angie said in shock.

"I know it's a huge responsibility because if something were to happen to both of us, you would look after her. It's a lot to ask given," Peggy swallowed, facing a reality she rather would ignore, "our work. The odds are higher that you could be called on. Neither Steve nor I have much family. Besides each other...and you."

The Jarvises, the Howling Commandos, and Stark probably counted too. There were a few Carters still scattered around England, but no one Peggy was close to. No one she would trust to raise her child.

"Stop right there," Angie said. "It would be an honor. However, the only godmotherly duties I will need to fulfill is spoiling your kid. You will be there to take care of her."

Peggy didn't argue the point, but she recognized how dangerous work in the S.S.R. could be. Tonight was proof enough.

"Really? You'd like to?" Peggy said.

Angie pulled Peggy to her feet and into a tight hug.

"I would like nothing more!"

Peggy refrained from gushing about how much she loved her friend, how wonderful she was. 

They said good night again and Angie couldn't wipe a silly little smile off her face.

Peggy returned to the bedroom thinking at least one good thing had happened today.

Steve was on his side, facing away from the door. The light was still on but he was pretending to be asleep.

She let him pretend as she took off her dressing gown again. She clicked off the light, so he became little more than an outline illuminated by a street lamp outside. Back in bed, she pressed close to him so her stomach was against his back and she could hook her chin over his shoulder.

"She's agreed," Peggy said in a stage whisper.

He didn't answer but his eyelids fluttered as if he was trying to keep them closed. She poked his cheek with a fingertip.

"Did you hear me? Angie said yes. She wants to be the baby's godmother."

His eyes opened at that. "Well, of course she does. She already loves that kid as much as us. Maybe more."

Peggy let out one short laugh and then sobered. "She understands what it entails," she said.

At last, he looked over at her. Their noses were only a few inches apart.

"What does that mean?" he said.

"If something happens to both of us, she would take care of the child."

"Oh," he said softly and then added a little more forcefully than was needed, "Nothing is going to happen to us."

"But if it does, our child will have a place to go." She was on the verge of tears again despite her best efforts. "A place filled with love."

He rolled over, encircling her in his broad arms. She burrowed against him and let the feeling of safety comfort her.

"I didn’t mean to talk down to you before," he said.

"I didn’t mean to snap."

"I believe you. You’ve been right about everything else. Why would I stop listening now?"

"Just remember that next time we fight."

He laughed and, so wrapped in his arms, she felt his deep tone vibrate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to [sokovianaccords (eurogirl)](http://archiveofourown.org/users/eurogirl) for the beta!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks, as always, to my beta, [sokovianaccords (eurogirl)](http://archiveofourown.org/users/eurogirl/works)!

Steve appeared in the reflection as Peggy leaned close to the mirror to put on her makeup. She didn’t acknowledge him, so he flopped onto the edge of the bed, looking miserable.

"I hate these things," he said, just as she had expected him to.

Captain America's presence was sometimes required at formal events, like parties or important announcements. They happened about once a month or so, and Mrs. Rogers was always there to accompany him because they were a good show with some interesting people and Peggy often enjoyed herself. She played the little wife and most didn’t realize she ran an S.S.R. office, directed missions for Steve, worked alongside the rest of the boys, and never even changed her last name. It was all a good cover story and Steve hated mingling on his own.

"I know. That is why I’m coming," she said.

"That’s why I hate this. It’s so exposed."

"Exposed?" she said. She lumbered around on the stool where she was sitting. Eight months into her pregnancy did not allow for lithe movements. "It’s a cocktail party."

"It’s you and me out in the open. In public. Announced."

"None of these people properly know who I am." She leaned back against the table and folded her hands around her belly.

"Someone knew," he said, referring to the incident a couple months ago.

"Do we need to go over this again?"

They had doubled security since she had been followed. She had opened and staffed a safe house, so there would be a place to go in case of another incident. Until the baby was born, she stopped taking meetings outside the office and was working from home more. The measures seemed to work too since there had been so signs of another tail. It was also a welcomed excuse not to have to drag her sorry arse around the city; subway stairs were not her friends.

He picked at nothing on the knob of the bedpost. "No, I know."

"Good."

She spun around again to finish her makeup. She was looking forward to a night out and would not let him spoil it.

"I used to watch my mom while she was getting ready," he said.

She smiled as she applied lipstick—the bright red one that was his favorite.

In her mind, she imagined the little, skinny boy sitting at the end of the bed in place of the herculean figure. His feet were nowhere near reaching the floor and he watched with the same careful eye he had when he was sketching.

Then, she saw an undefined blonde child sitting in the spot and her heart skipped a beat. Someday soon a little someone would join their family; someone who would call her mum and maybe watch her get ready one day.

She met his eyes again in the mirror and he grinned back. They were both thinking the same thing. Her cheeks warmed as if she had been caught doing something embarrassing.

"Get the buttons, won’t you?" she said. The back of her dress still hung open at the back from her waist up.

He got up from the bed and she rose from her stool.

Instead of helping, he tugged down the sleeve from one shoulder and kissed the spot he’d just revealed. He worked his way up and brushed her hair away as he moved along her neck.

She sighed, closed her eyes, and tilted her head so he could bury his face against her skin.

"That is not helping," she mumbled.

"Can’t," another kiss, "help," another kiss, "myself."

Peggy opened her eyes to watch him in the mirror. "It is a comfort you still find me attractive like this."

He stopped his kisses but didn’t pull back. She felt his breath on her skin when he spoke. "What do you mean _like this_?"

"I mean large."

"You are always the most beautiful woman I have ever laid eyes on." He gave her one more kiss and then focused on the task. "And tonight you are all dolled up to get dragged to party with people who do not know how remarkable you are."

She straightened her shoulders, offended. "What makes you think they don’t know I am remarkable?"

His fingers slipped off the button he was working on. "No—I mean—um, I mean you have to play someone you’re not. Someone not as—I don’t know—remarkable."

She was smiling again though he couldn’t see it. She loved this man. He stumbled and flubbed his words and still did it even after everything they had been through.

He finished with the buttons, and she flipped around, hooking her arms behind his neck, pressing her pregnant belly against his middle so she could reach him. Steve’s arms looped around her back.

"So, what makes Mrs. Rogers less of a part?" she said.

He stopped his stammering, realizing she wasn’t actually upset. "Nothing, absolutely nothing! I love Mrs. Rogers more than words can express. Chief Carter, however, saves lives and they don’t even know it. They think you worry about—I don’t know—curtain patterns all day."

She narrowed her eyes but was still smiling. "Is that what you think women who don’t run S.S.R. offices worry about?"

"Oh God, we’ve already established I know nothing about women." He shook his head sadly.

She laughed, and, at the sound, the baby gave a good kick. As always, the baby seemed to respond to her or Steve’s voice.

"Did you feel that?" Peggy asked. Leaning against him the way she was, he probably had.

He nodded, wide-eyed. The baby gave two or three more kicks and settled back down.

"I think you woke her up. She's mad," he said.

"I think she was reminding us we'll be late if we don’t get moving."

"Do we have to?"

"Quit your whining," she ordered as she untangled herself from him. "I got dolled up for this."

She marched from the room and he followed. She gathered her handbag, checking her little pistol was secure when he wasn't looking. He didn't need to know she was being cautious too. She didn't worry like he did, but she wouldn't be caught unprepared. Then, he helped her on with her coat and they went out to the waiting car.

The drive leaped out as they stepped outside. It was another one of Steve's men. Hank Matthews was the youngest and most eager of the team, always like a horse champing at the bit. Always first with a joke, to run towards danger ahead of his teammates, to get himself into trouble and out again. He called Peggy Mom instead of Chief and the rest were astonished at his gall. She thought it was funny so she let him get away with it.

Peggy smacked Steve's arm when she saw Hank.

"Ow!" Steve cried and rubbed his arm. "What was that for?"

"Stop dragging your men into your paranoia," she said.

"He volunteered!"

"After you left hints the size of boulders, no doubt."

"No one will know he's there and we'll have a little backup close at hand."

"We don't need back up."

"Humor me."

"I'm already doing plenty of that."

They stopped their bickering as they reached the curb.

Hank bowed low, whipping off the hat that matched a black uniform and the sleek, black car. "Evening, folks."

"Hello, Hank," Peggy said wearily. "Are you even old enough to have a license?"

"License? What's that?" Hank said. "I got something out of a cereal box."

Peggy rolled her eyes but accepted his hand to help her into the car.

"You’re looking ravishing tonight, Mom. If you don’t mind me saying," he added.

"Down boy," Peggy said as she squeezed herself into the backseat.

He flashed her a smile and a wink and closed her door for her. Steve got in on the other side and Hank settled himself in the driver's seat.

"Away we go!" he sang, and the car lurched into traffic.

"This is who you trust the life of your wife and your unborn child to?" Peggy said to Steve, and she grabbed his knee to keep from toppling over; she wasn’t very stable these days.

Steve scooted closer to Peggy as they trundled through the city streets. The heavy traffic didn’t allow for Hank to be too out of control, and they made it safely to their destination.

Steve was first out of the car and raced around to help Peggy. She accepted the gentle pull he gave her for momentum. Hank stayed behind the wheel when he saw Steve had it under control. When she was steady on feet again, Steve moved back to Hank’s window to talk about where he should park.

Peggy started towards the building. The season was changing, but at night the air outside still had a bite to it and she couldn’t close her coat anymore.

She heard footsteps, and she turned to wait for Steve, expecting to see him following her. Instead, a stranger was approaching, fast, practically running down the pavement. He had something big in his hand and he raised it.

Peggy went for her gun but he was too close, moving too fast and she knew there wasn't time to get to it. She couldn't fight either; she couldn't reach him around her belly, couldn't lift her leg without losing her balance.

"Steve!" she yelled in desperation.

He must have heard her panic because he vaulted over the hood of the car. He reached her in an instant, blocking her from attack with his entire, considerable mass.

Steve grabbed the man's outstretched arm and wrenched. What he was holding crashed to the cement. Steve twisted the man's arm around his back, so he flipped around and then Steve hooked his other arm around the man's throat.

The man struggled against Steve’s grip, pounding uselessly on Steve’s forearm. Steve released him when he stopped and he tumbled to the ground like a rag doll. From the pavement, the man coughed and spluttered.

"What do you want?" Steve demanded.

"Picture," he wheezed.

Peggy looked at the thing next to him and realized it was a busted camera.

The tension in the entire body released. Suddenly, she was aware of her racing heart, her weak knees. She clutched her arms around her belly. He had given her such a fright.

"Bloody hell," Peggy said and her voice shook.

Steve ignored the man and pulled Peggy into a hug. She gave herself to the count of five to press her face in his chest, to let his arms be her protection from the world.

When time was up, she pulled away from Steve and focused on the photographer. He was gathering himself off the ground.

"Shit! My camera!" he said, sounding hoarse from the chokehold.

"Don't swear," said Steve.

"I'll do whatever I want after you wreck my livelihood," he said as he straightened, still rubbing his throat.

"You're lucky it was just your camera," said Peggy. "I might have shot you. My husband could've done a great deal more damage than knocking the wind out of you."

"I wanted a picture. For the papers. It’s how I make a living," the man said. He was on his feet now with the pieces of his camera in his arms like he was holding a baby.

"You don't run at a lady from out of the dark," Steve said with a growl. "How were we supposed to know what you wanted? She's pregnant!" The last line came out in a bark.

"Steve, it's alright," Peggy said. She didn't want him yelling about their business in the street. "I'm alright."

Hank was out of the car by now and hurried up. "Is everything okay? Do you need the police?"

"No," said Peggy as Steve and the photographer both said, "Yes."

"The authorities aren't necessary," Peggy said. "Just a misunderstanding. We'll all going on our way."

"I want him arrested for trespassing or intimidation or something," said Steve.

"I want to make a report. I want damages paid," the man said.

"You'll walk away on your own two feet. That's enough payment," Steve said, pointing aggressively. "But you’re pushing your luck now, son."

“I want damages paid! Call the police," the photographer said.

Steve moved forward, but Hank positioned himself between Steve and the photographer. He put a firm hand on Steve’s chest. "Cap, sir, let me handle this."

"Steve, darling, that’s a good idea. Let’s wait inside," Peggy said. She pulled at Steve’s arm. She didn’t know why he was so upset, but it wasn’t helping.

He threw his arms up in the air and stalked away. Peggy glanced to Hank and mouthed thanks before following.

Steve was pacing in the lobby by the time she caught up. He glowered at Hank and the photographer as they talked on the street. The photographer was gesturing.

"Rather like our first night out after you came back," Peggy said, trying to sound cheerful. Her heart was still thumping too quickly, but she needed Steve to calm down.

"Don’t bring that up!" he moaned.

They had gone dancing and had been hounded by a few dozen photographers. One had been too close and Steve had accidentally knocked him over. Via the domino effect, a few others had hit the ground too.

"It all worked out," she said. "This is a part of our life. You can’t overreact or they get more fodder."

He whipped around to face her. "I know! But your—" He looked like he was gearing up to say something monumental and then he let out his breath without a word.

She touched his arm. "Please, darling."

"Your voice,” he finished. “I’m not sure I'll ever get the way you called my name out of my head. I don't think I've ever heard you sound like that before. You were scared."

His fire was burning out, and he moved closer to her.

"Startled maybe. I’m not quite at fighting fit at the moment." She patted her belly. "You were the weapon easiest to reach."

"This is twice in two months. What if I can’t get to you next time?" He was even closer now, and he placed a hand on her stomach, looking down with wide eyes. "What if I can’t protect you?"

She wasn’t sure if he was talking to the baby or to her too.

"Is that not what every parent worries about?" she said softly as she covered his hand with own.

"Maybe," he said unconvincingly.

Peggy lifted his chin. "You needn't worry about me. I don’t need protecting. I welcome the help, especially from you, but we will both be there for our child. Do you understand me? Both of us. It is not your responsibility alone."

He nodded.

"Hell or high water," she said.

She saw Hank approaching so she didn’t continue.

He opened the door, and she stepped a little away from Steve. His arm slipped away from her and hung at his side.

"You got ten dollars?" Hank asked.

"No," said Steve and folded his arms over his chest.

"Will our would-be photographer go away if we give him ten dollars?" Peggy asked.

"Yes, ma’am," Hank said.

"Steve, love of my life, give the man a tenner," Peggy said.

Steve groaned but reached for his wallet.

Hank took the money back to the photographer after Peggy had to help scrounge for cash because Steve didn't have the full ten.

Peggy turned back to Steve. She adjusted his tie even though it didn’t need it.

“Are you alright?” she asked.

He ran both his hands up her arms to her shoulders. “I’m okay if you’re okay.”

“I’m okay,” she promised.

“Okay.”

She smiled as if to prove it to him. “This will be fun. You haven’t taken me out in ages. And don’t you dare blame it on security.”

Steve started to say something but closed his mouth quickly.

Peggy laughed. She loved this man.

“There he goes,” said Steve, indicating the photographer.

Hank waved to both of them to urge them to go up to the party. Peggy pulled at Steve and he followed. She was still determined to have a good evening.

They rode up the lift to the top floor.

The elevator doors were mirrored and Peggy studied them as the ascended.

Her outfit was actually two pieces: a knee-length pencil skirt and a sleeveless top that fanned out to make her figure less defined. Both were navy blue and the collar of the top was beaded silver. Steve looked dashing in a fine suit in a charcoal grey with a red tie. Together, they were a handsome couple, if she did say so herself.

He caught her looking at them and leaned down to give her a peck on the cheek just before the doors opened.

They stepped out directly into the penthouse. The apartment was the equal to one of Stark’s. Waiters in black jackets weaved throughout, putting on the finishing touches. There was a quartet setting up in the corner. Peggy and Steve had been asked to come early and act as honorary hosts.

“Welcome! Welcome!” came a voice through the last minute rush.

A woman came forward. She was a stunning bleach blonde wearing a black dress that reached nearly to the floor, which made Peggy miss her old figure. The woman also wore a broad, practiced smile.

Mrs. Vera Reynolds, the hostess, was gliding towards them. The party was for her fundraiser to aid injured soldiers. She and her husband were often in the papers for attending or hosting other events like this. Peggy wasn’t quite sure of the reason they had become so famous, except for their wealth. Mr. Anton Reynolds had defected from the Eastern Bloc before the war and had Americanized his name and his company to become a millionaire seemingly overnight. The Rogers had only accepted the invitation for the good cause, never having so much as spoken to the Reynolds before.

“I’m Mrs. Reynolds,” said the woman. “Thank you so much for coming, Mrs. Rogers, Mr. Rogers. It’s an honor to have you in my home.”

“Thank you for having us. You have a lovely home,” Peggy said.

“I thought you should know there’s a photographer outside,” said Steve, skipping the pleasantries.

“Vultures,” Vera said. “We have an official photographer, of course, but the others hang around.” She turned to scan the room but didn’t seem to find who she was looking for. “Husband!” she called.

A thin man as elegantly dressed as his wife stuck his head from a doorway. “Yes, wife?” he said a little exasperated.

She waved him over. “Mr. and Mrs. Rogers, my husband.”

Peggy kept her comment about the unnecessary introduction to herself. Mrs. Rogers wasn’t a wisecracker.

“Welcome, all three of you,” Anton said with a gracious smile and a small bow. “I had heard congratulations were in order.” He had less of an accent than Peggy was expecting but she could still tell English wasn’t his first language.

Steve’s hackles went up and Peggy took his hand to calm him.

“Where did you hear that?” Peggy said. “So much of our life is in the public eye, we had tried to keep the new addition quiet. We thought we had been rather successful despite the evidence.”

Vera was looking horrified. Family matters were not something one discussed in public. 

“I beg your pardon,” Anton said with another silly bow. “My brother works with Mr. Howard Stark. He mentioned he and Mr. Rogers discussed it at a party of Mr. Starks. I had said in passing you would be here tonight. It’s so exciting.”

“No matter,” said Steve. “It is good news after all.”

“Indeed!” said Anton. He looked to his wife. “Did you need something?”

“There are already photographers sniffing around outside,” Vera said.

“Right away, dear,” Anton said and whisked off.

“I’m sorry about that. These Europeans. So uncouth,” Vera said with a cheeky grin at Peggy. “Make yourself at home. Things won’t really get started for a while.” She waved her hand, and a waiter appeared with two flutes of champagne for the Rogers. “Enjoy!”

She left, too.

Steve brow furrowed. “I don’t remember talking to anyone about anything important.”

“What party?” asked Peggy.

“Had to’ve been the poker night.”

She wrinkled her nose. Stark had persuaded Steve to attend a poker night thinking it would only be a few of the guys. However, when he had arrived at Stark’s mansion it was a full casino night. When he had escaped and made it home, he reeked so badly of cigars and acrid perfume she had wretched. She had frog-marched into directly into the shower to clean himself and his clothes.

“Stark probably asked and the brother must’ve overheard,” Steve continued. “It’s not like I was too drunk to remember.”

“Eavesdroppers,” Peggy said, as darkly as Vera had said vultures.

Anton’s answers should have been pacifying, but Peggy was suspicious. Perhaps they were both still on edge. Nothing to do about it now, but remember to ask Stark about it.

More guests became to arrive and Peggy’s focus shifted. The Rogers had duties to fulfill. The air filled with smoke, loud voices, and the music. She plastered her smile in place until all the official proceedings were finished as all eyes were on Captain America and his wife.

At last left to their own devices after nearly two hours of meeting other important people, photographs, and speeches, Peggy and Steve found themselves chatting with a group on the balcony.

Peggy stepped back after a suitable amount of time. Steve frowned in concern but she gave his arm a small squeeze and a smile of reassurance. She was fine; she needed to sit down.

She had trekked what felt like the full length of Europe, but a cocktail party did her feet in. Perhaps, it was being eight months pregnant. It was by far the hardest thing she had done to her body. Getting shot or impaled was much worse, but those incidents had been sprints, not the long marathon of a full term pregnancy.

The baby was kicking again, and it was distracting, making it hard to follow the thread of conversation.

"Is she alright?" asked Vera, as Peggy retreated.

"She probably wants to get off her feet," Steve said.

"I remember that feeling."

Peggy headed for an adjacent sitting room. It was lined with bookshelves and furnished with rich, leather furnishings. The library was—this was the best part—not being used by a single soul. The babble of voices wasn't far away, but she was alone.

She sank down onto the sofa with an involuntary exhale of relief. She leaned her back against the armrest and angled her legs so everything but her shoes was on the cushions. Not the most ladylike but she needed to get all the pressure off her feet.

Her skirt was tight too. She pulled at the waistband in a vain attempt to make it a little more comfortable. It had been tailored two weeks ago, and she'd grown even bigger since then. She was supposed to wear it to Angie’s premiere in another two weeks and it wasn't going to fit.

The baby gave a particularly strong kick, and she rubbed the spot.

"Would you please stop doing army drills on my insides?" she said aloud. All she got in answer was a somersault. She smiled. "That is not what I meant."

Peggy sat up a little. The feeling she was being watched crept up on her. She scanned the room and found a small, round face peering at her from behind a large armchair in the opposite corner.

"Hello there," she said.

The child ducked back behind the chair.

"It’s alright—I won’t tell."

He peered out again, and she smiled gently. She motioned him over with a finger. He stepped out from his hiding spot but didn’t come any closer. The boy was about three or four with bright eyes and dark hair. He wore neat, striped pajamas and clearly had not been invited to the party. He looked around the room as if expecting someone else.

"Where did you come from?" she asked.

"I came from here. This is my house. Where did _you_ come from?"

"Brooklyn," she said.

"But you sounded funny."

She snorted. "I suppose I do," she said, aware of her accent. "I grew up in a place called England. It's all the way on the other side of the ocean."

"I think I've heard of it."

He came a little closer and plopped himself on the coffee table. She sat up, putting her feet back on the floor and facing him.

"Who were you talking to?" he asked next.

She paused for a second, deciding the best way to explain to a child so young. She places her hands around her belly to make the shape more obvious—not that it needed it as she entered every room stomach first.

"There’s a baby in my tummy," she said.

"In there?" He pointed at her.

She nodded. "Would you like feel? Babies kick an awful lot."

He raised his eyebrows skeptically but reached out a pudgy hand towards her and pressed to her stomach. The baby was still moving, and his eyes went wide.

"You didn’t just eat somethin’?" he said.

"No, but I wonder sometimes."

"A baby, huh?" He pulled his hand away. "What’s its name?"

"They don’t have one yet."

"Why not?"

"Because we don’t know if it’s a girl or a boy."

"Why not?"

Without saying a word, Steve appeared in the doorway and leaned against the frame. He had that dopey smile on his face as he listened to the conversation.

"Because you have to wait until the baby is born to tell. But do you want to know a secret?" Peggy said.

The boy nodded.

"I think it’s a girl," she said in almost a whisper.

"Why?" he whispered back

"My husband asks me the same thing," Peggy said. "I don’t really know—I have a feeling. Do you ever just get a feeling?"

"I always know when it’s time for lunch."

"It’s something like that," she said with a laugh and then changed the subject. "So, do you know who Captain America is?"

His eyes went wide again. "Oh yes! Of course! He's supposta be here. That’s why I’m not—" He stopped himself from revealing incriminating information. "I was looking for him."

"Turn around."

The boy turned and gave Steve a long up and down look. Adults rarely recognized Steve out of uniform but kids were always the ones to spot him.

The boy let out a squeak and dove behind Peggy. He nearly knocked her off the sofa, and she laughed as she struggled to stay on.

"Who’s your friend?" Steve asked, moving into the room.

"We never did get to introductions," said Peggy.

She reached behind her and squeezed the boy’s sides to tickle him. The boy giggled while still trying to bury himself between the cushions.

"What’s your name, bud?" asked Steve as he sat down on the couch next to Peggy.

A voice answered for him. "George Maxwell Reynolds, what on earth are you doing out of bed?"

Peggy looked up again to see Vera had joined them. She was not as charmed by the scene as Steve had been. She had her hands on her hips and at the sounds of her voice the boy, apparently called George, had frozen.

Peggy used the opportunity to extract him and pulled him onto her lap as best as she could. He didn’t quite fit around her belly.

"Is he bothering you? George, are you bothering Mr. and Mrs. Rogers?" Vera said.

"He’s alright," said Peggy.

George curled up against Peggy, knowing he had found an ally.

"Say good night. You should be asleep," said Vera.

"He wanted to meet Captain America," said Peggy.

"You’ve met him. Let’s go," Vera said.

"Not officially," added Steve.

George glanced at his mother and then back at Steve. Steve smiled and held out a hand. George stuck out a hand, and they shook.

"It’s nice to meet you, George."

"What do you say, Georgie?" said Vera.

"Pleasure to make your ‘cquaintance," George said in a small voice.

"Okay, my naughty boy, now it is time bed," said Vera.

"Mom," he said with a long drawn out vowel.

"Tell you what," said Steve. "If you’re good and go straight to bed, I’ll sign something for you. You’ll be able to show all your friends."

"Really?" said George.

"‘Course, but you have to be good. Can you do that?"

George nodded, taking his mission from Captain America seriously.

Vera held out her hand to her son, and he slid off Peggy’s lap. She found she didn’t want to let him go.

"Good night, darling," Peggy said. "Sleep well."

"‘Night," he said and went to his mother.

He chattered as they left. "Mom, Mom, Mom, that was Captain America."

"I know."

"He’s going to sign something for me."

"I know."

Peggy turned Steve when their voices faded. He pulled her feet onto his lap and she left out another sigh of relief. He rubbed her ankles.

"That was very nice of you," Peggy said. "He has a story he’ll be talking about for the rest of his life."

"I do what I can for my public."

"I may have given him a life lesson a little too soon. He was asking about our baby, but I don’t know if it was my place to educate him on the birds and the bees."

He laughed. "I guessed it’s okay as long you didn’t mention how babies get into tummies."

"Certainly not!"

"I think you’re in the clear."

"Oh, good." She leaned her head back against the sofa. It was more than her feet that were getting tired.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

"I’m fading," she said lazily.

"Should we sneak out?"

"I think we already have." The party was still going on in other room and no one but Vera seemed to have noticed.

"I think they understand. The reason is pretty clear."

"What are you suggesting, Rogers?" she asked, sitting up.

"You said—earlier it was you who—" He stopped himself and he leaned forward, pressing his cheek to her stomach and spreading his hand across the other side. "Hello baby, this is your father. How do I answer your mom’s question without getting myself in trouble?"

"It’s mum, and, Steve, stop it," she said with a laugh as she batted him away even though the baby was already settling down. They always did at the sound of Steve’s voice.

He ignored Peggy. "Are you listening? Any suggestions?"

"Steve, we are in public," she said, though she wasn’t trying very to hard to make him stop.

"Who cares?"

"I care. There has to be some level of decorum."

"I told you—I can’t help myself. I found you talking very sweetly to a little boy and I cannot wait to see you with our baby."

Her smile got a little bigger and a little softer. She had become such a sucker for all his romantic talk. He lulled her and the baby to sleep with all his can’t-waits and hopes for the future.

"Tell me what you are looking forward to today," she said.

"Today, I was thinking about Halloween costumes."

"Halloween costumes? That's half a year away."

"That bodega near the apartment still has decorations in the window. It reminded me."

The corner store had had the same decorations since they had moved in. Faded and cracked bats and half a pumpkin were taped to a window behind a stack of cleaning supplies.

"I’ve never had a Halloween costume," she said.

He sat up and looked shocked like he had hardly heard anything more outlandish. "Never?"

"It is a very American holiday."

"It’s really fun. The candy, the costumes. My mom used to help me make mine. That did take months."

"I can sew a button on a uniform, but I don’t think I’m very good at making costumes."

"Well, I bet I am," he said brightly. "I had lots of practice with Mom and then I picked up a few things in art school. I used to hem my clothes too. Everything used to be too long."

"So, you’ll make Halloween costumes?"

"So, I will make Halloween costumes. I’m looking forward to it. Little hands with little scissors."

Peggy was still smiling, but she was suddenly a little nervous. She didn’t know how Sarah Rogers had done it. She worked full time at a grueling job to come home and be very devoted to her son. Not just devoted, but creative and clever. Maybe it was because Steve had been so sick, but the list of special things she used to do with Steve was endless.

Peggy’s own mother had been a very different sort and Peggy’s upbringing had been very different. Her mother had been around little and then Peggy had gone away for school. She had been cared for mostly by nannies and had spent more time rough housing with Michael than anything else. She didn’t have many memories of her little hands in her mother’s.

"I’m not much for any sort of crafts, really. I never had the patience," Peggy said with an attempt at being casual.

"Or the time," he said.

She felt her face fall. Steve’s stories were already shaking her confidence. In her imagination, she would be like Sarah, but she was doubting if she had it in her. Perhaps Steve agreed.

"Oh, Peg, honey, I didn’t mean it like that. It’s okay—I never expected—I know who you are."

"What must you think of me?" she said with a sniff.

"That you're going to be an amazing mom. Maybe not conventional, but you have never, ever been that. Our family will never, ever be that." He kissed her. "Actually, I was thinking I would like to step back from my team. I could stay home and mobilize only when really needed."

"You want to stay home?"

"Yeah, I’d like to help. I'll be very hands on—don’t you doubt me on that."

"I don’t doubt you." She was smiling again.

"I might be all flashy on the front lines, in the papers, but you’re the one who does real work. We’re a team, right? Partners, right? My turn to hold the fort." He leaned down again and talked to her belly. "How do you like that plan, hm? We’ve gotta to make sure Mom can still save the world."

"It’s Mum, not Mom. I won’t remind you again." She had to tease him or she would get sentimental and then her makeup would be ruined.

"Mum," he corrected.

"Thank you."

He kissed her middle before straightening again but didn’t take his hands away. He caressed her rounded belly in a way that made her want to purr like a cat.

"Don’t start that," she said in a low voice.

"Or what?" His tone matched hers and he leaned forward for another kiss.

He never found out.

Vera reappeared with a worn out smile on her face. Steve let go of Peggy and then gently put her feet back onto the floor. Vera looked a little guilty at interrupting.

"No, no, you’re fine," she said with a wave of her hand. "In fact, you’re saints. I really hope he wasn’t bothering you. I’m going to kill whoever told him Captain America was coming tonight."

"He was delightful," Peggy said.

"You can have him," she said with a laugh. "I love him to pieces, but—" She dropped into the other chair with a huff of exhaustion. “You’ll see.”

"Soon enough," said Peggy. She rubbed her belly again though the baby had finally settled. There was still just under eight weeks until her due date which seemed like both too much time and not enough.

"You'll be great," said Vera. "I’m not saying you won’t have bad days along with the good, but you two seem solid. If that’s not too bold for me to say. Blame the champagne if it is." She laughed at herself.

"No, it’s good to hear," said Steve. "We’ll take the vote of confidence."

"I should get back," Vera said and stood up.

Steve rose out of politeness, so Peggy also struggled to her sore feet. She couldn’t hide her fatigue.

"We should too," Peggy said. "We are meant to be making an appearance."

"Poor dear," said Vera and then pointed to Steve. "Take your wife home. She’s done enough tonight.”

"I'm fine," Peggy said.

"Of course you are," Vera said. "But I remember how much work it takes to be fine. All the official things are finished. Go home and put your feet up properly."

Steve was looking at Peggy and she shrugged.

"You're the guest of honor," she said, very much hoping he'd say yes, but not wanting to admit it.

"I have to sign something for the boy first," he said, looking apologetically at Peggy.

She didn’t mind.

"Goodness!" Vera said. "I nearly forgot. Georgie would never have forgiven me. There’ll be something in the kitchen."

Vera led Peggy and Steve in a roundabout way to skirt the edge of the party and draw less attention to their absence.

The kitchen was as grand as the rest of the penthouse. It buzzed like the busy hive for the wait staff. No less than four asked Vera if she needed anything.

Vera found one of the extra party invitations and passed it to Steve with a pen.

"There," she said, "it'll be dated."

On the back, he wrote ‘ _To George: Be good! Captain's orders!_ ’, signed his name, and then drew a simple shield.

Peggy's heart swelled; her husband really was the sweetest man in the world. He was going to be a wonderful father. For all his longing to see her with their child, she felt the same way. Maybe even more though she had never once said it out loud.

She sometimes felt she was doing this for him. She had wanted the baby to be sure, but he was the one who had always longed to be a parent. The day she had broken off her engagement to poor old Fred, she had decided to leave all expectation behind. Marriage, motherhood—if those things happened it would be nice, but they had stopped being the goal, the way she would mark her life as successful. The desire for these things had come after she had met Steve, not before. Like he always said, she had found the right partner.

Steve blew on the ink to dry it and handed the invitation back to Vera.

“Thank you,” she said. “You don't know what this will mean to him.”

“I have an idea—I was a little boy once,” Steve said with a smile.

Vera looked him up and down as if considering for the first time that Steve hasn't just appeared as a fully grown superhero.

Steve flattened his hair at the back in his nervous way.

“Well,” said Peggy to cover the moment. “It's been a lovely evening. Thank you so much for hosting. Thank your husband as well.”

She gave Vera a hug and a friendly kiss on the cheek.

“Our pleasure,” Vera said. “It was an honor to have you both. Thank you for the help with the charity. Mrs. Rogers, let's get coffee—or maybe tea—sometime.”

“I’d like that,” Peggy said. Vera wasn't the sort of person Peggy usually spent time with, but she liked the woman and having more friends who were mothers couldn't hurt.

Steve said goodbye with thanks and a cheek kiss too except Vera was blushing when he stepped back. For all she acted like Peggy and Steve were normal guests, she was just as taken in by Captain America as everyone else.

Peggy smirked to herself. She found it funny the way other women swooned in front of her husband, who had eyes for no one but her.

Goodbyes said Vera returned to the party. The Rogers retrieved their coats and saw themselves out without anyone noticing.

Peggy leaned against Steve when they were truly alone in the lift. "Let’s go to the diner."

They were still regulars at L&L Automat.

Steve rubbed the back of his neck. "Oh Peg, I want to go home."

"The baby demands a milkshake."

"We spent all our money paying off the photographer."

"You have a quarter to spend on your wife, your very, very pregnant wife, who only had hors d'oeuvres to eat tonight." Her voice got low and breathy.

She kissed his neck while her hand worked its way towards his belt.

"Oh God, st—stop it. We can—diner—yes," he said.

She didn’t stop until the doors opened in the lobby. Peggy stepped out as his nothing had been happening. Steve was still squirming.

Yes, it was satisfying she still had this effect on him.

Hank was waiting and smoking cigarettes with a few other drivers, but he snapped to attention when he saw them.

“Party ending early?” Hank asked as he gave his hand to help Peggy into the car again.

“Hank, I’m going to admit something to you and don’t you dare repeat it,” she said. “My feet hurt—carrying a child is exhausting.”

“You are tougher than me on every level, ma’am.”

She smiled to herself as he dashed around to the driver’s seat.

When all three were settled, Peggy gave instructions to Hank.

"L&L Automat by the main office, please. The night is not over and we owe you at least dinner for being our driver tonight."

"I’m not going to argue with that," he said and pulled into traffic.

Peggy grabbed Steve’s arm and draped it over her shoulders.

"I know what you think about these evenings," she said, leaning in again, "but I had a very nice time."

"Yeah?" He hugged her closer.

"You should take me out more often."

"Yeah?"

"More date nights and more milkshakes."

He kissed her forehead. "I’ll see what I can do.”


	5. Chapter 5

“Oh, Mrs. Rogers! Over here!” 

Peggy looked over the crowded pavement dotted with cafe tables to find Vera Reynolds waving to her. She was already seated at a table. Peggy had to choose her route carefully. She was two days past her due date and the tight places between the backs of chairs would be tricky.

It was a beautiful day for the outdoor setting; the first day that spoke of summer being just around the corner. Peggy was even wearing a sundress in a pale blue with a bright floral print. It wasn't something she would normally pick out, but she was running out of options. It was something from a large box of things Angie had lent her from a family member. And she had wanted to look nice next to Vera, who, apparently, always looked as fabulous as she had at her cocktail party. 

In the handwritten thank you note the Rogers had received for helping with the fundraising, there was a postscript at the bottom inviting Peggy to a luncheon. She had had another lovely time, chatting with other important women. Little George had been running around and Peggy had been pleased to see him again too. In response to Peggy’s thank you note, she had received an invitation to lunch just the two of them. 

“Well, I’m suddenly feeling very guilty for dragging you of the house,” Vera said when Peggy, at last, reached the table. She stood up and kissed Peggy on each cheek. “Don’t get me wrong—you look wonderful.” 

“Oh thank you,” Peggy said, dropping into an empty chair with a huff. “I’m glad for the excuse to get out, to be honest. My leave from work started two days go and my husband is driving me batty.” 

“I didn’t realize you worked.” 

“Just at the phone company.” Peggy waved it away. She was still getting to know Mrs. Reynolds, and Peggy wasn’t ready to trust her all the way. “I like to stay busy with Mr. Rogers away so much.” 

She didn’t mention she was usually away as much as her husband. 

“So, you are home from work and playing the waiting game.” 

“I’ve been trying to teach myself to knit.” 

Peggy liked the idea of making something for the baby, something for them to have when she had to go away, something they could keep into adulthood. She was making a blanket, but she had only completed one small, pale yellow square. She wasn’t very good, but she was determined to try. Mostly, she carried the yarn and needles around with her in her handbag. 

“That sounds fun.” 

“It’s not exactly fun, but it's something to do. They say first time mums go late and I haven't felt any different than I have in months. I'm afraid I still have some waiting left to do. Mr. Rogers says the baby is still cooking.” 

“The men do like to come up with silly ways of putting it while you do all the work.” 

Peggy laughed. “He has really has been doing his part, though. He’s been doing all the cooking and cleaning—I’ve hardly lifted a finger in weeks.” 

“He really is one in a million that captain of yours.” 

“Don’t I know it,” Peggy said. 

“You hate him a little, don't you?” Vera asked with a teasing smile. 

Peggy leaned forward, pounding her arms on the table. “More than a little. This is all his fault. I'm as large as a dirigible and he's to blame. Even though he's taking care of my every need, every part of the apartment, putting up with all my crying—” 

“Every little thing, right?” 

“Everything! This morning it an advert for puppy chow on the radio.” She paused to control her tear ducts at the memory. “I've turned into a faucet. And it's his child that's done this to me.” 

Vera was laughing. “I see why you were so glad to accept my invitation.” 

“I need cake,” Peggy said and flopped back in her chair again. 

“That I can help with,” Vera said and summoned a waiter. 

The rest of the lunch was pleasant with easy conversation. It hadn't been the champagne that had made Vera so friendly and open at her party. When the bill at last paid, Peggy was sad for the meal to end. 

“How are you getting home?” Vera asked when they stopped on the curb to wait for her car service. 

“I'll catch a taxi. My husband insisted on dropping me off, but I'm not going to bother making him come all the way back here.”

“He didn't want to join us?” Vera said, teasing again. 

Peggy tossed her head. “He wasn't invited. Besides, he had paperwork to pick up at the office.” 

“That doesn't sound as glamorous as I'd expect,” she dropped her voice, “Captain America’s work to be.” 

“It's not all flying to foreign places and waving his shield about. He always behind on the reports. From what I gather,” she added, so it didn't seem as if she knew too much. 

Vera laughed. Peggy rolled her eyes. 

“Let me give you a ride home,” Vera said. 

“It's all the way in Brooklyn. I'll be fine.” 

“I'll have the driver drop me off and then he'll take you home. It's not our usual man, but I'm sure he won't mind. Mr. Reynolds pays him enough not to mind.”

A large, sleek black car pulled up at that moment. From the outside, Peggy guessed it would have a wide, comfortable backseat and she couldn't resist. A trusted driver in a fine car that didn't reek of a hundred other passengers was too good to pass up. 

“Oh alright. If only to make sure you get your money’s worth.” 

The driver didn’t get out of the car right away, so Vera had to motion to him. After a beat, he scrambled out. He was a tall, beefy man who could have doubled as a bodyguard. He opened the door and Vera slid into the car with ease, but Peggy wasn’t so graceful. 

“Sir, would you mind?” Peggy held out her hand to him. 

He stared at her like he didn’t know what she was asking for. Then, he snapped to attention and reached out for her. She leaned on his burly arm and made into the car. 

“Thank you very much,” she said. 

He gave her a weak smile and closed the door. 

“Like I said,” Vera said in a hushed voice. “Not our usual man.” 

“New to the job then?” 

“Apparently.” 

The driver was back in the front seat so the ladies stopped their unkind commentary. 

Vera told him to would be taking Peggy to Brooklyn after he dropped her off. He nodded, stoically. 

Peggy and Vera went back to chatting as the driver took them uptown and stopped at the building where Peggy and Steve had attended the cocktail party almost two months ago. 

The driver got out without having to be told to open the door for Vera. 

She leaned across the seat and gave Peggy a hug first. 

“It was very nice to see you today,” Vera said when she let go. “Good luck with everything. Soon enough!” 

“I’ll keep you posted,” Peggy said. 

Vera winked and hopped out of the car. 

When the driver was once again in his seat, Peggy gave him the cross streets to her apartment. She never gave the exact address as a small safety precaution. Then, they were off again. 

Peggy closed her eyes, leaned back against the headrest, and placed a hand to her belly. She was exhausted. Lunch out was more than enough activity for one day. Steve had been right—although she wouldn’t admit it to him. He had gently suggested that she at least have Vera come to Brooklyn. Traveling all the way into the city just for a meal seemed unnecessary, he thought. But as soon as he suggested that she wouldn’t hear anymore. 

She was glad she got out of the house and she was just as glad to be going home after only a few hours. 

The light changed on the other side of her eyelids like they were going through a tunnel. She opened her eyes and sat up. 

The car was moving over the lower level of the Queensboro Bridge, which was not the route she would have chosen. It seemed more direct to take one of the bridges from lower Manhattan and straight into Brooklyn rather than meander through Queens. He must know what he was doing. Maybe there had been reports of traffic on the radio while she and Vera were at the restaurant.

They were over the bridge and she waited to see which way he turned. Her stomach knotted, her breath caught, and he turned in the wrong directions, steering the car away from where she wanted to go. 

“Excuse me, sir,” she said, sitting up even farther. “I live in Brooklyn, not Queens. I believe you’ve made a mistake.” 

She knew even as the words left her mouth there hadn’t been a misunderstanding. It was deliberate, orchestrated, planned. 

“No mistake,” he said in a thick accent and pulled out a gun. 

He held it in his left hand, crossing his body, while he still drove with his right hand. It was a terrible angle. But it didn’t matter. From this distance, he could still put a bullet straight through her middle even without looking at her. 

“I don't want any trouble.” She tried the door handle and nothing happened. “Please, I have a little money if—” Her voice cracked appropriately. 

He glanced over his shoulder and silenced her. She had known this wasn't a robbery, but she had to try. 

She forced her rising panic back down her throat. There was no reason to panic yet; there was nothing to be done. She couldn’t escape. Once she might have smashed a window and leaped out of the car at a stop light or even while it was still moving, but that was impossible now. She wouldn't fit even if she could maneuver and she wouldn’t be able to run fast enough even if she got out of the car. She had to be patient and wait for a chance. 

He was forced to stop at a red light. The passenger door on the opposite side of the car opened, and another man slid in. It was the man in the hat, one of the three-man team who had followed her months ago and had got dangerously close. He had wanted something from her then and this was his second chance. The trap had closed around her. 

He was wearing the same hat with the green band and the same sly smile. He too was holding a gun. 

She pressed herself against her door just trying to get as far away from him as she could. Protective arms folded around her belly as if that might actually do something. 

The panic threatened again. She wrestled with herself to regain control and managed not to cry out but her eyes filled with tears. She couldn't help it; she was scared. 

"You," she said fiercely. 

He inclined his head and didn't answer. 

"What do you want?" she said. 

"In this moment,” he said in the same slight accent, “whatever weapons you have on your person and don't insult me by saying you have none. I've seen your war record and those are not habits you give up even when you look like Mary before the trip to Bethlehem." 

Slowly, not wanting to startle him in any way, she reached into her purse. She pulled out a .22 pistol from under her bag of knitting. 

“Do I get a receipt?” she quipped to keep herself calm. “Only it was a gift, and I’d like it back.”

The little gun had a mother-of-pearl inlay on the grip. Steve had given it to her for their first Christmas after they were married. She had never had need to fire it outside the range. 

He tucked her gun and his own out of sight as the car moved on. 

"Thank you," he said. "This will all be much easier without the threat of violence." 

"Just because you have my gun doesn't mean I won't inflict violence on your face," Peggy said quickly. 

The driver made a sound that might have been a cough but might also have been a stifled laugh. 

The man in the hat frowned as if he didn't approve, didn’t think that was very ladylike. 

_Who gave a shit?_

"Now, now,” he said, “if we can't have civil conversation, maybe we need not have one at all." 

He angled his knees forward and stared pointedly out the window. 

"Who are you? What do you want?" Peggy said. 

He glanced at her again but didn't answer. 

"Why take me? Am I bait? I am head of an S.S.R. office. My husband is one of the greatest soldiers in history. You must know the hellfire you're about to bring on yourself? Captain Rogers will be coming for me, but it will not end well for you. Nothing will stop him." 

"You will be out of the state before he even realizes you are missing. Since your husband took care of one of my experiments, it is better if he is not involved.”

He had to be referring to the aborted mission that had put Steve and his entire unit M.I.A. for twelve days. 

“You attacked Steve’s mission?” she said. “With a monster?” 

“Failed attempt. Radiation does unpredictable things. The subject proved almost useful in the end. Things will improve now I have what I need.”

This godforsaken pursuit for the serum! Because is it, she had come so close to losing Steve—again—and now her child was in danger—again. She had been right and, for once, wasn't happy about it. Her poor child. The baby hadn’t even opened their eyes to the world, and they were already in so much danger. 

She blamed herself. She hadn’t thought about any repercussions. They had jumped without considering the consequences. As per usual. 

There was only one thing to do now. Get her baby out alive. 

Peggy was forming a plan. If he was hoping to snatch her and run, she had to slow them down. She had to keep herself within reach. It was an objective and her heart rate lowered a little. She preferred it when she had a plan. 

She needed to use the rest of the car ride to gather as much information as she could. It was clear what he wanted: serum. 

"What do you need? Tell me who you are," Peggy said, but it hadn't sounded like a demand. She sounded small. 

"My name is Dr. Gottfried Hendrik Reinhold and I am the leading expert in serum research." 

She placed his hint of an accent now: German. This man was part of whatever lonely Hydra agents survived the end of the war. That didn't frighten her anymore than the rest of the situation. They'd scattered like spiders; the S.S.R. knew they hadn't got them all. 

But the name frightened her. Reinhold could be Americanized to Reynolds. With her panic, Peggy had been pushing aside the thought Vera had been involved. They had got to the driver. They had used the Reynolds. Her new friend had known nothing. 

Reinhold smiled like a dagger. "Yes, my brother,” he said, knowing exactly what Peggy was thinking. "I despised him at first, for switching sides, but it has proved useful. So many connections he has. So many important men. Men of business, science. Men like Howard Stark." 

Peggy forced out a laugh. "Never in a million years. I'll give you your brother, even Mrs. Reynolds, but you'll never convince me Stark had anything to do with this. You've overreached."

"Maybe not willingly," Reinhold said a little sulkily. 

Okay, Peggy would give him that too. Stark's vaults had proven weaker than he believed before. She suddenly remembered what Anton Reynolds had said at the cocktail party. He had mentioned he had a brother who worked for Stark. Reinhold had seen her test results, maybe even gone looking for them. 

"And another you'll never convince me is that you are a leading expert," she continued. Putting him down was making her feel better. "The only expert was Dr. Erskine and your people killed him." 

Reinhold was frowning again. "He had protégés, assists. Men underneath him who were smarter than he gave credit to.” He flicked something invisible off his trouser. “But as you say, he is dead, so yes, I am a leading expert.” 

“An expert would have made his own. An expert wouldn’t try to steal the one small source, wouldn't go after a defenseless, unborn child.” 

“I don't like what you are implying, Mrs. Rogers.” 

“I'm not implying anything—I'm calling you a coward and a hack, Dr. Reinhold.” 

He lunged for her, drawing his hand back to strike her. She let out a gasp that was closer to a shriek and shrank back, squeezing her eyes closed involuntarily. She had never been slapped before. 

She waited for a crack, some pain. Neither came. 

Peggy opened her eyes. Reinhold was holding the back of his hand about two inches from her face. 

He lowered his arm, but she didn’t relax. 

“I will not take pleasure in hurting you,” he said. “This is for the greater good. Our great goods are on opposite side so this has to be done by force. I don’t like this. But, mark my words, I will get what I want. I will prevail and I will be brought back into the fold.” 

She didn't say anything, didn’t move. 

The baby kicked and Peggy reminded herself she needed to hold her tongue. For once in her life, she needed to keep quiet. She was already planning on throwing a wrench in his plans, so there was no need to make it harder, more dangerous by winding him up first. 

He settled himself back on his side of the seat. 

She shifted uncomfortably. Even sitting was hard these days. There was nothing that was easy these days. 

They drove in silence for a while until she judged it was safe to throw the first speed bump in the way. 

"Where are you taking me?" Peggy asked. 

He didn't answer. 

"How much longer will we be in the car?" 

Again, no answer. 

"I would like to know when I'll be able to get out of the car." 

Still nothing. 

"I'd rather not explain the intimates of carrying a child, but I will need to get out this car soon." 

Reinhold at least looked at her now, but his stare was blank; he didn't understand. 

"I need to relieve myself," she said, trying to sound pathetic rather than frustrated. 

"You what?" he said, looking a little disgusted. 

"Sir, please." She shifted her position again and added a grimace for effect. "The baby is pressing on my insides. I can't help it." 

"Reinhold," said the driver in German, “do not be cruel." 

She caught his eye in the rearview mirror, but he looked away quickly. 

Reinhold looked at a gold watch. " _Gottverdammt_ , fine. Go to the house."

It was another twenty minutes before they turned down an alley next to a skinny, dilapidated house. The driver pulled straight onto a small, overgrown patch of grass behind it. The weeds were flattened in a few places as if a vehicle had been pulling in and out over a period of time. 

He cut the engine and got out. He opened the door for Reinhold first. He climbed out and the door closed sharply. The driver, a foot taller than the doctor, blocked Reinhold against the car. 

The moment she was alone, Peggy tried the handle again, but it was locked. She grappled with the locking mechanism, but it had been modified to keep the passengers in. So that was why the driver had remembered to open the door for Vera when they reached her building. 

The men spoke in German, but the conversation wasn’t hard to follow even muffled through the car door. 

"You do not pay me enough for it. I do not hurt children," the driver said. 

“Here you draw the line? Martin, you've done so much worse,” Reinhold answered. 

“I know what I have done. Never to a baby. You swore you would not hurt them.” 

"Have I? No," Reinhold said. “It is not a baby—it is a biological sample. She is the host. Would you rather have I waited and taken the child alone?" 

Peggy's breath caught. She stopped her fiddling and wrapped her arms around her belly again. It wouldn't help, but it felt like a shield. She couldn’t blink back the tears. 

She didn’t know what to do. She had never not known what to do before. 

"Do not act like that is kindness. You have no time," Martin said. 

"Get out of my way," Reinhold said and pushed passed the driver. 

He stalked around to her door and yanked it open. 

Peggy didn't move, couldn't. 

"Please," she said, "let us go." 

"You have five minutes. Is this how you want to spend it?" 

"The S.S.R. can give you resources. A lab, equipment, even samples. There's no need for this. Let us go." 

"I will not work for your gain. I am not my brother—I am no traitor." 

"Please." 

"Get out of the car!" 

He lunged for her again, grabbed her arm in a vice, and dragged. 

Peggy tried to pry him off and to stay upright at the same time. Her center of gravity had shifted so much with her swollen belly and he was standing above her, so he was at a better angle. She scrambled to get her feet under her as she stumbled over the bumps and edges of the car floor. 

One foot hit the uneven ground, but there was too much momentum, not enough time to get the other foot where it needed to be. Her knee hit crashed into the ground, sending a jolt of pain right through her. 

Reinhold was still holding onto her and she felt his body tense to keep her from falling any farther. He hardly waited a beat before he was pulling on her again, trying to get her up. She was on her feet again, staggering like a filly. 

“Stop! Please, I’m coming,” she cried. 

He let go so suddenly she nearly lost her balance again, but she caught herself

Martin came closer by now, looming over the scene. He didn’t help her or even say anything but he disapproved. Reinhold still shoved her towards the building, but at least it wasn’t so hard. 

“Go,” Reinhold ordered. 

He was directing Peggy towards four or five rotten, wooden stairs leading up to the house.

Martin perched on the hood of the car and lit a cigarette. He wasn't coming inside. Peggy wished he would. 

She didn't exactly trust him, but he seemed to mitigate some of Reinhold's temper and urgency. He had no problems kidnapping a pregnant woman—he just took issue with how she was being treated. She'd take what she could get. 

"Go," said Reinhold again. 

She went but as slowly as she could. The steps didn't look sturdy, and she needed to waste time. 

Inside, the house wasn't entirely abandoned, but it had been stripped of part like a fancy car left in a bad neighborhood. 

They had entered directly into the kitchen but it was missing all appliances and all the counters. There was a card table with a hot plate on it instead. The next room was empty except for two camp beds. It was dark and smell of the damp. 

He pointed to her to more stairs. 

"On the left," he said. "And go fast!" 

She started up these stairs slowly too and gripping the railing tightly. 

"Hurry!" yelled Reinhold. 

Peggy didn't turn as she yelled back at him. "I am hurrying! This whole building is about to come down around my ears and I can't see my feet!" 

He groaned and a little voice in the back of her head that sounded a lot like Peggy's mother reminded her to hold her tongue. 

At the top, she saw the bathroom on the left. The other rooms were empty. She went inside and closed the door. To her immense relief, she found it had a bolt. She jammed the latch into place and she stayed there for a moment, holding the lock. 

If Reinhold was in a rush, she had just found the best way to cause a serious delay. He was some kind of disgraced scientist, not an experienced kidnapper. That seemed to be Martin's job, and he was having second thoughts. These little pieces might be enough to save her child. 

She turned to examine the rest of the bathroom. It was small, but the tub was missing so there was space. Above the toilet, there was a little window, too small for her to fit through even if she hadn't been a story up above the alley. The sink basin was chipped and the mirror above was cracked. The toilet was functional, however.

She did her business. It had been ruse to get them to stop but better safe than sorry. 

Then, she sat on the toilet lid to examine her knee and struggled to lean far enough to see it around her belly. It was sore and red-raw, but the skin hadn't broken. Her stockings were torn though, and it nearly made her cry. 

She was barely holding onto her tears since the car turned the wrong way and the stocking brought her the closest to losing control. What was wrong with her? Even Steve would have told her she was being silly. 

That thought was too much. The dam broke, and the tears came. 

She put her fist to her mouth to keep herself quiet and let it out. 

She couldn't be Agent Carter right now. Her child was safe for one small moment, so she let herself be the terrified soon-to-be mother she was. Don't pretend the fear wasn't there, feel it, acknowledge it, count to ten, and get to work. 

The counting helped, but it took to sixty to get her shaky breaths under control. 

What really helped was the baby. She was still kicking and, as always, that calmed her mother. The little one seemed to be okay and Peggy had to hang onto that. 

When she had gathered herself as well as she could, she turned to the window again. It wouldn't offer an escape route, but maybe she could get it open and shout for help. At the very least she could get a clearer picture of where she was. If she managed to get a message to Steve, it wouldn't do much good if she couldn't tell him where she was. Queens was a very large place. Even though she had seen the street name since she hadn’t been blindfolded.

Another rookie mistake. 

The window was painted shut, so it really would not save her, but reconnaissance never hurt. The more information she had for herself or anyone trying to rescue her the better. 

The glass was frosted with age, but she still made out a few streets of shabby houses and the emptiness of what she guessed was the airport. Abandoned house on Butler Street near Laguardia. That was a precise location. If only she could guarantee she would stay here and tell someone. 

Her back twinged, and she straightened, massaging her knuckles into the spot. Everything was so hard, even looking out a window. 

She dropped back onto toilet lid. It had been well over the five minutes Reinhold had set. She wondered how long it would take for him to break down the door. 

She waited. 

It had only been an hour since she had left the restaurant. She pictured Steve moving through their apartment, maybe doing dishes, maybe going to the back garden to check on the roses, maybe actually working on his reports. He wouldn’t have a care in the world. He wouldn’t know. It hadn’t even been long enough for him to notice she should have been back by now. 

The sound of Reinhold’s footsteps kept her from dissolving into tears again. She had to stay strong. She wouldn't be able to muscle her way out of this one, so she needed to keep it together. 

He knocked. It was loud and impatient, but it was a knock. 

"Time to go!" he said. 

"Just a minute," Peggy called. She didn't move except to rub her belly. 

He gave her exactly a minute and started banging again. 

"I will not play games." 

"I'm going as fast as I can," she said. 

She still didn't get up. 

He didn't wait this time. He kept pounding on the door. 

"Open it now!" 

She didn't bother to respond. 

He tried the doorknob. It turned, but the latch held. The door rattled in its frame as he kept trying. 

"Unlock it! Now!" 

She rolled her eyes even though he couldn't see her. Like she was going to listen to that. 

"I will break it down!" 

The whole wall shook as crashed into the door. The bottom half opened half a foot and slammed back, but the latch was still holding miraculously. He did it again. And then again. 

Peggy moved now, but only to stand in the corner where the tub should have been. She faced the wall to protect the baby. Splinters would start flying in any second. If not bullets too. 

She cleared her throat and screamed. Like an actress on a stage, she projected to the very back of the audience. Between the banging and her yelling, maybe the neighbors would hear and call the authorities. 

But she was in Queens where the houses were detached, so she was probably only going to aggravate Reinhold. Though, that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. Flustered people made mistakes. He was already desperate, and it was time to fuel that fire. 

The latch gave at last with sick crunch and Reinhold came for her. 

He went straight for her throat. She turned as he entered and knocked his hands away with a practiced motion. She went to grab his wrist. But he knew more about fighting than she had expected because he had seen her move coming. 

Instead of getting a grip on him as Peggy had hoped, he got hold of her wrist with one hand as she made contact with the other. He used his own momentum to twist her arm around her back. He pressed his other hand to the back of her head and tried to slam it against the wall. She got her other arm on the wall and tried to push back, tried to stay upright. Both shoulders seemed to cry out with the effort. He leaned in with his entire body. He overpowered her and forced her face against the wall as if he meant to crush her skull. 

The rest of her didn’t connect. Just her cheek bone. Her feet had been positioned just far enough away, and she had somehow leaned rather than be moved forward. 

Now, she was yelling, and it was out of real fear, not the performance she had been giving. She couldn't fight like this, not like she was used to. She would never give up, give in—there was too much to lose, too much at stake. Her child deserved every chance, every ounce of her strength, every part of her working to get out of this situation. 

But she was literally backed into a corner. 

Reinhold leaned closer, burying his nose in her hair. 

“I only need the blood and tissue samples. I will slip it all here on the floor and collect it later,” he hissed in her ear. “Would you prefer that?” 

Beyond his words, though they seemed to fill every corner of her mind and adding even more fear, there was another bang and then running footsteps. 

Martin burst into the little bathroom and dragged Reinhold off Peggy without missing a beat. Reinhold struggled against the bigger man and Peggy quaked. Reinhold hadn't eased his grip but hadn't entirely let her go.

“What the fuck do you think you're doing?” Martin was saying in German. 

“Let go of me!” was Reinhold’s answer. “We have to go!” 

“They left,” Martin said. “They called on the radio. You knew they wouldn’t wait.” 

Reinhold finally released Peggy and stormed from the room while letting out a volley of curses that put even her foul month to shame. He looked wild, trapped, and he had lost his hat. His yelling continued all the way down the stairs. 

Peggy waited a beat and then collapsed back onto the toilet lid. She was out of breath and shaking. Her face stung. Her shoulder was stiff from where Reinhold had pinned it behind her back. She felt the absent pressure of his hand on her head. And she couldn’t let any of it show. 

“Are you all right?” Martin asked in his thick accent. 

She ignored him. Closing her eyes, she focused on being still. The baby was moving, and she didn’t want to miss a single kick. All the loud noises from the outside on top of Peggy’s pounding heartbeat had to be quite a commotion. 

She heard the sink running and opened her eyes again. Martin was holding a handkerchief until the water. After squeezing it out, he turned back to her and moved as if to put it against her cheek. Peggy leaned away from him, frowning. He stopped and held it out to her. 

“Your face. It bleeds,” he said roughly. 

She didn't take it so he set the handkerchief on the lip of the sink. 

Her back twinged again. She shifted on her perch and she massaged the spot again. 

"Are you all right?" he repeated. 

She looked back at him 

"Back pain," she said. "Everything hurts when the baby is so close." 

"Are you sure?" 

"If you are so concerned, you would help me get out of here," she said.

His face didn’t change, but he shook his head. 

“I've done nothing—my child has done nothing to deserve this. Please. _Bitte_ ,” she said. 

"I cannot. You have to do as he wishes. Cause no more problems and things will be better. He will kill you or it to get what he wants," Martin said in a flat tone like he didn't want it to happen but it was inevitable. 

Peggy swallowed. " _Bitte, hilf uns_ ," she said again and her voice shook. _Please, help us._

"I will not hurt you, but I cannot help you. It is the job." Martin stayed stony-faced. "Stay here. I will see what Dr. Reinhold will want to do next." 

He reached the hallway when she called to him. “Who left?” 

“The plane,” he said. 

He left her alone. It was perhaps the most disheartening moment so far. He knew she wouldn't run—couldn't. They had her trapped even without chains. 

But she had managed to keep herself in the city for a little longer. That was something. 

She pulled herself to her feet and moved to the mirror. Her cheek was already swollen and the skin broken from the rough tiles. A trail of blood marked her cheek. Her eyes were red too, but that was probably from the crying. 

She picked up Martin's handkerchief and gingerly wiped at the spot where it was most painful. It came away red, but the cool dampness helped a little. 

The baby kicked again. 

"Hush," she whispered as she rubbed her belly. "I know we're in a tight spot, but no need to worry." 

She said it to herself as much as to the baby. She had to believe that was true. 

She cast around the room again, trying to keep herself from getting upset again. There was no door to close now. She needed something to keep her focused. 

Her handbag was on the floor with half the contents spilling out. She sighed. Reaching her toes was a monumental task nowadays. She considered leaving it all. There were bigger worries. And even her bag of knitting had opened. One of the needles had rolled away. 

But it was something to do and it had given her another seed of an idea. Gathering everything up kept her occupied until the men came back. Even if her back ached again. 

Martin loomed in the hallway and Reinhold leaned in the doorway. 

Peggy stiffened at the sight of them, her knuckles going white around the strap of her bag. 

"What now?" she demanded. 

Reinhold smoothed his hair back as if to give himself a moment to collect himself. 

"You got your wish. We are staying here," he said. "You will be confined and you will cooperate. In exchange, I promise not to put a hand on you unnecessarily. The resources are limited here, so I have no patience for dramatics." 

"You can't just keep me here," she said. 

"And why not? The research was to be done here, anyway. In truth, having the subject at hand will make things easier. Much."

"Oh, so you have a plan for delivering my baby?" she said derisively, but her bark was worse than her bite. 

"Well, there was plan had you got on the plane, but you so cleverly delayed us. There you would have had an apartment and a nurse. Here is only me. I am a medical doctor, however, so let us hope I remember something from my training." 

His cold smile was back. He was feeling confident he had the upper hand again. 

Peggy let herself look afraid. He truly had to believe was winning. She needed him to let his guard down one more time. 

He stepped aside and gestured towards with stairs. "Come this way." 

She hesitated, and it had nothing to do with her act. She would have preferred almost anything else in the world to going with him. 

"Now," he said sharply. 

She stepped forward and Reinhold seemed pleased. 

Martin went first and tried to offer his hand to her on the stairs, but she ignored him and struggled down the rickety steps by herself. 

Reinhold pointed her towards the back of house and then to another set of stairs leading a basement. This time, he brushed past her before she descended. Martin didn't follow, and she still wished he would. 

The basement didn't match the rest of the house. Temporary walls of plastic sheeting had been set up to build a room in the middle of the open footprint. Reinhold held open a flap, and she had to keep moving. 

Inside was a lab filled with battled but well cared for equipment. The surfaces all gleamed as brightly as they could. The counters from upstairs looked to have been brought down. There was even a large basin skin. The house was a shell to hold this one room. The only comfort was the lack of examination table, so perhaps Reinhold wasn't planning on cutting the baby out on her. Small comfort. 

Reinhold went to a desk in the far corner and pulled a chair that also looked like if was taken from a kitchen into the middle of the space. 

Peggy couldn't help but notice a phone on the desk. 

"Sit," Reinhold said before she could take a step towards the desk and a call for help. 

She obeyed, still holding her bag on her lap. 

He turned his back to her so she couldn't see what he was doing. She heard the clink of glass vials. 

"What are you going to do to me?" she asked. 

"A blood draw. You shouldn't worry so much," he said without turning to face her. 

"I've been kidnapped and assaulted today. I have reason to be wary." 

He ignored her comment. 

At last, he turned, syringe in hand, and she saw it wasn't empty the second before he jabbed it into her upper arm left bare by her pretty, sleeveless dress. 

"What are you doing?" she gasped as she felt the close liquid enter her system. 

It spread quickly. Her vision blurred and her mind went foggy. Visions danced in front of her eyes. Images she couldn’t explain and couldn’t remember. 

"A cocktail of sedatives," he said with a cruel laugh. "To make this smoother."

There must have been something else in it though because suddenly his teeth seemed to be fangs.

He turned away to gather more supplies. 

Peggy took her moment. Her fight or flight kicked in and despite her confusion—or maybe because of it—she tried to run. 

Reinhold let her rush past him with a weary sigh. "This is exactly why I felt the need for the drugs. Come back before you fall." 

She tore through the flap, ripping it clean off two by fours attached to the ceiling. She reached the steps and kept going. 

"I said come back!" he yelled and now came after her, following in the gaping hole she had made. 

She was nearly at the top, nearly free from the monster's lair. 

His claw closed around her calf and she felt hard, landing on her hip on the corner of a step. 

Reinhold was yelling, and it turned into an echoing roar. 

She had to fight. This was her child's last chance. 

She reached into her bag with her last traces of clarity. She had been much more careful in what order she put things in this time. Her hand closed on of the knitting needles. She swung wildly and felt it sink into something soft. 

The roaring turned into a strangled gurgle and then it spotted. Reinhold stood up, letting her go, and reached for the shiny spike protruding from his neck. His eyes glazed over and he fell backward down the stairs. 

He hit the cement floor and didn't try to get up again. He had gone silent. 

Then came pounding feet and Martin skidded into view in the doorway. He seemed a giant, towering hundreds of feet above her. 

He looked at her first, laying on the stairs, and then to Reinhold, unmoving at the bottom.

His edges blurred and then focused again as she watched him. She had to fight the drug. She couldn't give in now. 

There passed an eternity and Martin still hadn't moved. 

There was a pain in Peggy's back and this time she realized it wasn't just an ache. A sound of surprise escaped as she looked down at her belly. 

When she lifted her eyes again, Martin was gone, seeming to vanish. If she hadn't heard the slamming of a door, she wouldn't have believed it wasn't a trick of the drugs. 

The house went still. Peggy was alone. So very alone. 

Her vision swam again. All she wanted was to close her eyes. To sleep, to rest. 

The baby moved, but it seemed feeble. She knew every kick, and stretch, and somersault by now. Her child's movements didn't feel like that. 

No rest yet. 

The phone. 

She needed to call for help. For the first time, Peggy truly didn’t think she could get out this mess on her own. She needed help; she needed someone to rescue her. She had done the hard work, but she couldn’t get herself home. 

She pulled herself up into a sitting position, moved to the edge of the step, and lowered herself down to the one below. She didn't trust her legs on the decline. 

One by one, she inched her way back down into the basement. 

Half her brain was screaming she was going the wrong way. The other half was willing her to keep going. Keep going! 

She paused just short of the bottom, and waited for Reinhold to move. She stared at the crumpled body with the needle still in his neck. A pool of blood underneath him had grown. His eyes saw nothing. 

There was some witty remark about her spilling his blood instead, but she didn't have the strength. 

Another pain made her keep going. 

She would have to use her legs now. She heaved herself up farther and stepped over the body. 

She stumbled back into the lab until she caught hold of the counter. 

Hand over hand now, with most of her weight on the counter, she moved along to get to the desk. When she reached it, she pulled the phone down and sank to the floor with it cradled in her lap. She leaned against the wall with the plastic sheeting between her back and the cinder blocks. Her head felt as if it weighed fifty pounds, the phone felt like a hundred pounds. 

She dialed home and pressed the receiver to her ear. The ringing was the only small comfort. Someone would pick up. 

“Peggy,” said Steve. 

It wasn’t a question. His voice was filled with hope and fear. He had been waiting for her to call. He had known there was trouble. 

“Yes, it's me,” she said with a heavy breath. 

“Oh God, thank you—I’ve been so worried. We activated the team, but I knew you’d call here first. What happened? Are you okay?” 

“He took me. The man in the hat—he’s dead. Other one left but he might come back. He had help on the tail and the car—the other one was the driver. There might be more. He might have gone to get more. Vera even. Maybe.” Her head hurt. She knew she wasn’t making much sense. 

“Where are you?” Steve said slowly. 

"We drove. The car...” 

“Peggy!” 

She gasped a little, and she realized he had been calling her name. “Sorry, he drugged me.” 

“Tell me what happened. Tell me what I need to do.” 

“The driver had a gun. He took me to Queens. The man in the hat was waiting. He was called Reinhold. He’s dead. Our baby is safe.” 

“That’s good, Peggy, but you have to tell me exactly where you are.” 

Peggy closed her eyes. She had to think. There was yet another pain in her back and knew what it meant. 

She rattled off what she had learned from the bathroom window. “I can see the airport,” she added. 

“Are you hurt?” he said. 

“There were none too gentle with me. Banged up. An injection.” 

“Okay, I’m coming. The cavalry is coming. Just hang on.” 

“Steve, I think the baby is coming too.” 

There was a beat. She imagined his swelling panic rising like a tsunami. It had been coming for miles, far, far out at sea and racing towards the shore. What he had been waiting and worrying about and now it was coming he wasn’t here. 

And she needed him more than ever. 

“Okay, okay,” he said and then repeated a few more time. “Nothing we haven’t prepared for, right? You'll be okay. I have to hang up so I can come get you. You stay right where you are. Right there. Just wait for me.” 

She nodded and then remember he couldn't see her. 

"Right here," she repeated. 

"Good. I'm coming. Hell or high water. I love you so much. Do you hear me? Both of you. So, so much." 

"I love you too." 

"I have to hang up, but I'll be beside you before you know it." 

"I'll be waiting."

"I love you. See you soon." 

The line went dead. He wasn't hesitating this time without Angie with her safely locked in a hotel room. 

"I love you too," she said to no one. 

She just had to wait. Steve was coming. Captain America was coming. Just for her. He had jumped out of planes, crossed enemy fire, stolen onto moving trains, always moving towards certain death for people he didn't know. He would tear the world apart for her. Reinhold was lucky he was already dead. 

She wanted to close her eyes. Wanted to rest. Her vision kept slipping in and out of focus and it was making her dizzy. She felt sick with exhaustion, with the drugs. 

She wanted to rest. Give into the artificial desire for sleep. 

She faded out, but there was another pain in her back and she snapped back. It seemed the worst yet. She groaned as it took hold. 

Where was Steve? 

She couldn't say how long she had been out, so she couldn't know if she should worry he wasn't here yet. 

She wasn't sure if the baby had been moving. She had felt kicks on the stairs but didn't remember feeling anything since then. 

"You with me?" she said loudly. 

Her voice usually got a reaction, and it worked. One definite kick. 

"You keep doing that, alright?" Peggy said. 

That didn't get a response. 

One was enough for now. 

There was a noise upstairs, and she realized that was what had woke her. 

Friend or foe? Her husband or Martin returning? 

She scrambled for her handbag which she had dropped by the desk. She took out the second knitting needle. Her arm shook as she held it in front of her. 

She didn't have the strength. 

The baby twisted at her movements. 

Then, she heard it. Her name. Steve called from above. The footsteps of frantic searching. 

"Here," she said. 

It wasn't loud enough. She didn't have the strength. 

The knit clatter to the floor. 

"Peggy!" 

"Here!" she screamed with everything she had. 

The footsteps changed direction. 

There was another pain—call a spade a spade—another contraction. She was still in the grip of it as Steve, her Captain, came barreling down the stairs, shield at the ready. 

He leaped down half the steps, clearing Reinhold completely. In two more paces, he was beside her, pulling her into a tight embrace, kissing her, murmuring how much he loved her. 

She cried. It couldn't be helped. 

They were rescued.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thanks to my beta, [sokovianaccords (eurogirl)](http://archiveofourown.org/users/eurogirl/works)!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to [sokovianaccords (eurogirl)](http://archiveofourown.org/users/eurogirl/works) for being my beta!

Steve pulled back from their embrace just a little and brushed the tears off Peggy's cheeks, avoiding where the skin was broken.

They were still on the floor in Reinhold’s makeshift research lab.

"Just in time," she said after a few shaky gasps.

He brushed away another tear. "I'm not late?"

"Not today." She let out another hiccuping sob.

"Shh, shh, you're safe. It's all going to be okay."

She wasn't so sure everything was okay, but she knew she was safe. Peggy had been rescued. Steve was here, and her captor couldn’t hurt them anymore.

"He's dead," she said.

For a second, Steve looked away from her and behind him to where Reinhold's body was splayed at the bottom of the stairs in its puddle of blood.

"Seems so," he said.

"He was going to experiment on the baby—he wanted the serum."

He kissed her again more gently and then said, "I'm so sorry. This is all my fault. It's always because of me."

"It doesn't matter," she said because it didn't. "Gottfried Hendrik Reinhold. He is—was Anton Reynold's brother."

Steve frowned deeply. He knew what she meant. “What about the wife? Was lunch a lure?”

“I don’t know, but Vera could have been. They both could—could be involved.”

"Okay, I'll tell the team. Have them picked up."

With her message delivered, all her focus shifted. "The baby," she said.

"I know, I know," he said. "Let's get you out of here. Can you walk?"

"If you help me."

"Anything."

He rose, swinging his shield to his back, then reached back down to pull her right to her feet. Her legs wobbled but held even though she leaned on his shoulder as he wrapped his arm around her waist.

Her head still felt heavy, her limbs slow to respond. The edges of everything seemed fuzzy. Her mind was clear but trapped behind a thick curtain.

They took only a few halting steps when another contraction hit and Peggy groaned. The baby was on its way.

“Oh God, oh God,” Steve said. “Am I going to have to catch her?”

It took a moment for Peggy to answer. “No, you just need to get us to hospital.”

She had already dug deep, but now was the time to dig even deeper. To prove how fierce a mother could be. For the life she had built. For her family. For her child. There was nothing she wouldn't do.

They reached the stairs and Steve lifted her clear over the body. He avoided it himself and then carried her up the steps. She gave herself a moment to lean into him, to feel the solidness of his chest.

The drugs wanted to overpower her again, but she roused herself when she heard other voices as they reached the main floor.

"Put me down," she said softly. "Not in front of the men."

He hesitated but did as she asked. He didn't let go of her entirely and she still leaned on him.

They walked out of the house together.

Half of Steve's team was in the backyard all looking menacing as they kept the scene secure. The other half were probably in the house. The black cars they came in were parked in the defensive line. Other agents and police were arriving.

The men fell quiet when Peggy and Steve appeared. Except for Hank, who scrambled forward to offer an extra hand to help her down the rotten back steps.

She took it gratefully.

"Oh Mom," he said in a half-whisper.

"Not as bad as it looks," she said, though she guessed it looked terrible. She didn't want the men fretting and feeling guilty.

"We’ll get an ambulance here in a jiffy," Hank said. “Soon as you can spit.” The words were almost his usual teasing, but he was somber.

"No time," Peggy said. "Drive us, will you?"

Hank looked to Steve first.

"Peggy, you need—" Steve began.

"I need not to give birth at this godforsaken house," she said loudly. "The ambulance would only drive me to hospital. The car has lights does it not? It will be just as fast."

"Okay, okay," said Steve. "Hank, help her. Two seconds," he added to Peggy.

She allowed herself to be passed over to Hank. She gripped his shoulder, and he held her elbow with both hands as they headed for the car closest to the street.

"I've got you," Hank said. "One step at a time, okay? This way."

She squeezed his shoulder, not quite knowing how to respond to his kindness.

Steve was back by the time they reached the car.

"Leaving instructions," he explained as he helped her into the backseat. "I'm all yours."

As she got settled, Steve moved around the car to join her from the other side. She curled against him as if she could steal his strength just by being close. He put his hand on her belly.

As soon as Hank's ass hit the front seat, the car roared to life, and they were off with the sound of engines and sirens.

She told Steve everything that had happened from the point the driver, Martin, turned his car in the wrong direction to hearing Steve calling for her. She wasn’t sure the story made much sense, but he got the gist.

She wanted to rest again, to give into the sedative. Keeping her thoughts in some semblance of order was about all she could handle. 

When she closed her eyes, he shook her shoulder.

“Nope, I’m sorry,” he said. “Keep them open.”

“I need a moment,” she said without opening her eyes.

“Not until a doctor says you can have it. The baby needs you awake.”

Peggy sighed and dragged her heavy eyes open.

“Thank you,” he said and then asked her a question she had been dreading. "Has she moved?"

She purist her lips and blinked a few times before she could answer. "A little. Not as much as usual.”

“Is that normal during labor? Or is something...?”

He trailed off before finishing the thought ‘or is something wrong?’

“I don't know," she said to both questions. "I don't know anything."

"We'll be at the hospital soon. The doctors will know. They'll take care of it."

She shook her head. This wasn't something they could take care of. If their baby was in trouble— which Peggy knew in her heart their baby was in trouble— they were about to enter another fight for survival. The second one that day. And the work landed on Peggy's shoulders. Again.

She could only pray that she was up for the task. Nothing would make her stop her fight, but she didn't know if her body was up for it. She was already close to her physical limit and labor hadn't really started.

As if to prove a point, another contraction built and her body railed against it.

Steve held onto her, soothing her best he could until the pain eased and she could catch her breath.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

"I don't know if you've ever been told this, but labor is very, very painful," she answered.

He hugged her closer. "I guess I have heard that, yeah."

"It's worse than I imagined. And I think these are just the little ones."

The baby gave a solid kick at that moment, one they both felt.

She sighed with relief despite the pain.

"I love you," he said. 

"You too."

The car stopped, and he sat up. "We're here," he said.

He said it like it was time for battle, like they had reached a rendezvous during the war.

Hank sprang into action once again, getting out of the car and heading into the wide, swinging hospital door. Steve got out too and Peggy sat up so she could keep an eye on him. She wasn't letting him out of her sight even for a second.

He came around to her side of the car to help her out as Hank appeared a wheelchair for her. With only a glance at Hank, she used it. She didn't mind admitting to needing help in front of Hank by now.

He gave her a small salute which she returned before he got back into the driver's seat and pulled away.

"He's moving the car, but he'll stay," said Steve as he took hold of the wheelchair handles. "I don't want to worry about security."

Neither did she. Her evidence pointed to Reinhold working alone, but there was still Martin. And the rest of Hydra. If Steve thought Hank staying helped with safety, she wouldn’t argue.

Steve would walk her through this. She handed all thinking over to him. She was forced to deal with the physical side and she'd let him have the mental. They would do this together.

Steve pushed her inside.

They were sent to the Labor and Delivery wing and a nurse at reception looked alarmed when she saw Peggy. She was a small but sturdy looking woman with her dark hair pulled back into a tight bun.

"Oh my, oh my," she said, coming around the desk at once. "I'm Nurse Ada Samson. What's the matter?"

"She's in labor," Steve said.

Ada's focus had been on Peggy but she glanced at Steve when he spoke and her eyes went wide. She'd recognized him even though he was civilian clothes, and he'd left his shield behind.

"Captain—Captain—" she stammered.

"Mr. and Mrs. Rogers is fine," said Steve. “Or even Steve. I'm not important right now.”

Ada shook her head as if chiding herself. “Right you are. My apologies. What can I help with?”

“She’s in labor,” Steve repeated.

“I’m full term, but it was brought on by trauma,” added Peggy.

“A fall?” Ada asked. She was scribbling notes on a clipboard.

“An assault, getting drugged, and a fall.”

Peggy tried to sound nonchalant, but it didn’t seem effective by the way Ada’s eyes widened again.

“Oh dear,” she said. “We’ll take you to a room where the doctor will see you. This way, Mrs. Rogers.” She took the wheelchair handles from Steve. "Mr. Rogers, the waiting room is to your left."

"Thanks, but I won't be using it," he said.

"Sir?"

"I don't need a waiting room. I'm staying with her."

Peggy nodded once, thinking the matter settled. Her husband not the waiting room type in any circumstance.

"That's against policy. Mr. Rogers will wait here," Ada said.

The words hit like lead in Peggy's stomach. Were they going to separate her from Steve? After everything. After all she had been through.

"No," said Peggy, “Steve, tell her. I can't—I won't—"

She tried to get up from the chair but Ada put a firm hand on her shoulder and kept her in place.

"You'll be taken care of," Ada said.

Ada tried to push off, but Steve grabbed the handle and the chair didn't budge.

"You won’t believe the day she’s had," he said. "Kidnapped. Attacked. Drugged. I will not leave her. The rules be damned.”

Ada seemed overwhelmed as if a father had never asked to be in the delivery room before. She wanted to help but didn't want to break the rules.

Then, of course, Peggy had another contraction. She groaned and doubled over, squeezing Steve's hand with all her might.

She couldn't do this without him. Her partner. Together.

Peggy had to push down a wave of panic with a few deep breaths, the same technique she had learned in a birthing class. If she came apart, she would never get her point across.

Peggy found her voice as the contraction released. “I need him. Please.”

A look of pity crossed Ada’s face, which Peggy hated unless it got her what she wanted. She was not used to being the helpless one. At the mercy of bad guys and her own body. At the pity of nurses who seemed in control of her fate.

"We don't have time to argue about this,” Steve said.

“You’re right,” said Ada and Peggy held her breath. “However, it’s not up to me. It’s policy. The doctors need room to work and they don’t need anyone underfoot."

Steve’s jaw muscles bulged as he clenched his teeth. “I won’t be underfoot—I only want to help.”

“It is still up to Dr. Caldwell.”

Steve let go of the wheelchair. “Where might I find him?” he said. His jaw hadn’t loosened.

“Don’t you leave me,” Peggy said before Ada could answer.

He knelt down so he could look in her the eye from her seat in the wheelchair. “I’ll go clear things up with the doc and be right back, okay? You get settled in the room and I’ll be there in a few, okay?” He didn’t sound as convincing as he wanted to.

She closed her eyes and bit back a trembling lip. She was worried she might not see him again. Part of her knew how utterly irrational that was, but the other part, a part that recognized the numerous bad things that happened to her today, a part remembered another time when he left her sight and hadn’t come back for five years, that part wouldn’t be reasoned with. That part was just plain scared. 

Still, she nodded.

“Christ, you are the bravest person I know,” he said and took her hand as he straightened again. He gave Ada an ‘are you really going to make me do this?’ look and repeated his question. “Where is the doctor?”

Ada seemed to waver. She glanced between Peggy and Steve and then to their hands, clenched so tightly together.

“The nurse at the admin will know exactly where he is.” She pointed back the way they had just come to a large desk at the end of the hall. “You must wait if he’s with a patient.”

“Naturally,” Steve said coldly.

He took a step away, but he didn’t let go of Peggy’s hand. He took another step and his grip loosened. If she had been saving her strength for what she knew was coming, nothing would have separated them. But now she let his fingers slip from her. He walked away and Ada pushed the wheelchair.

Peggy craned around her seat to watch him go. He glanced over his shoulder. When their eyes met, he winked, and she knew it was bad if he was trying to cheer her up.

“I understand this is hard,” Ada said.

“You haven’t a clue,” Peggy shot back.

They turned a corner, and he was lost from view. She let out a little involuntary mew.

“Are you in pain?” Ada asked.

Peggy didn’t answer. Her entire body hurt from her stinging cheek to her bruised knee and the baby she was about to have to push out in between.

They reached the room. It was nothing special, but it was private at least.

Ada tried to help Peggy moved to the bed but Peggy brushed the nurse away. Ada backed off and got out a hospital gown.

Peggy eyed it wearily before concentrating on hefting herself onto the bed. She was so focused she didn't quite notice Ada had moved behind her until Ada took hold of the fastenings of Peggy's dress. Peggy flinched. "Don't," she snapped.

The word burst out of Peggy's mouth and surprised even her.

She had been so manhandled today even the thought of another stranger putting a single finger on her made her want to be sick.

Ada let go. "We need to examine you."

Peggy sighed. "I know. It's just—just—" she turned to face the nurse. "Where's my husband?"

She was forcing panic down again, trying to acknowledge the fear, to recognize how unfounded this particular fear was. There was so much else to worry about at this moment that Steve leaving her side for a few minutes should be at the bottom of the list. But she was operating on adrenaline and animal instinct, and there was little she could do about that. Her mind had hooked on the idea she could only do this if he were with her.

"Nearby, I'm sure," Ada said.

"I'd like him to be here."

"I understand that, but right now we need to get you into a gown. Let’s get you all settled like Mr. Rogers said. This is for your sake and for your baby’s."

For the baby. At that, Peggy nodded.

“Be gentle with me. Everything hurts,” Peggy said, trying to justify her sharp reaction.

Ada reached out again and started on the fastenings. The nurse knew what she was doing and before Peggy knew it she was out of her clothes and in the scratchy gown. The only break in her professional manner came when she caught sight of Peggy’s hip where she had crashed into the step as she escaped from Reinhold.

The bruise had bloomed across her skin. The edge of the step was clear in a deep black and blue mark. Peggy realized how much her side was aching too, but everything ached so it was hard to tell.

She noted it but didn’t comment.

“You’re moving along and there’s no immediate danger,” Ada said after she examined Peggy. “The heartbeat isn’t where I’d like it to be, but it’s not dangerous. It’s only a minor sign of distress—a cause for close monitoring—which we would do, anyway.”

Peggy nodded, wishing she had felt more of a sense of relief at the nurse’s words. Her mind got hung up on the word ‘immediate.’

She stayed quiet as Ada cleaned and bandaged Peggy’s cheek and then tucked her into bed.

“Could you at least tell my husband about the heartbeat?” Peggy asked when Ada had almost reached the door.

“Of course. I’ll go see what the doctor has to say about him joining you too,” Ada said before Peggy could ask about that too.

Then, Peggy was alone. Safe, snug in bed, but alone.

She had tried her best to be patient; she stayed quiet and still and did what Ada ask of her. But now there wasn’t anything to focus on, except how little the baby was moving. And wondering where the bloody hell Steve was.

Surely he wouldn't let them keep him out.

"Where is your father?" she asked the baby aloud. Her voice wavered.

She rubbed the spot where she could feel the baby pressed.

The baby gave a half-hearted kick, which at least stopped Peggy's lip from trembling again. It wasn't her usual vigorous jab, but it was a response.

"Keep doing that, remember? Don't let your mum worry."

There was another contraction, and she bore down against the pain. She cried out, but no one came to soothe her.

For Christ's sake, she didn't want to be doing this by herself. She wanted Steve to put his strong hands on her, to support her, to rub her back. She wanted a doctor or a nurse to tell her they were going to be okay. She wanted to hold her child so she believed it.

The pain released her, and she panted for breath.

She stared at the door and waited. And waited, her anxiety growing with every passing second.

Ada had taken her watch when she had put in the hospital gown, so Peggy wasn’t sure how long she waited. It had been enough time for Ada to flit in and out one more time. 

She shook her head before Peggy had even asked the question. “Dr. Caldwell is in surgery. It will be the first time I ask when he gets out.”

When Ada left again and Peggy was alone again, she realized if Dr. Caldwell wouldn't be coming to check on her soon, there wouldn’t be anyone for Steve to bother. She needed him and she would not wait any longer.

When the next contraction had passed, she pushed the sheets away and scooted to the edge of the bed. Every part of her was a raw nerve, so she had to move. She was having doubts about her legs supporting her own weight, but she set her feet on the floor, anyway.

Rocking back and forth a few times to get up momentum, she flipped around to face the bed and use the mattress for support. She leaned forward with her belly hanging down, holding herself up with her arms as much as her legs. Her fists clenched with the effort, but her legs were steady.

After a beat, she pushed herself upright by her knuckles until he stood, panting from the effort. She took a step back and then felt the begins of another contraction. They were coming faster now, closer together, more intense.

“Oh no,” she said to herself.

She reached for the bed, but the pain hit with full force before she could get back on. She sank to her knees, reaching her arms reached across the mattress and taking a fist full of fabric in each hand. She put her cheek down on where the sheets. were as cool as flipping a pillow over in the middle of the night. She closed her eyes and waited. The door opened behind her.

“Oh Mrs. Rogers!” Ada’s voice said. “Are you alright? What happened?”

There were hurried footsteps and then Ada’s arms were around Peggy trying to lift her up. Peggy didn't help and Ada wasn’t able to make her budge.

“You need to stay in bed,” Ada said firmly.

Peggy still hadn’t opened her eyes, but she hoped it was clear she had no intention of listening to the nurse.

“Mrs. Rogers, please.”

Peggy groaned, but it was out of annoyance rather than pain.

Ada retreated, and the door opened and closed again.

Peggy stayed where she was. The contraction was letting her go, but the kneeling felt good. It was as close to a comfortable position as she had found.

The door opened again and there was a second set of footsteps. Peggy guessed it would be some orderly come to lift her back into the bed by force. She’d scream if anyone touched her. Sometimes a woman needed a feminine shriek to get what she wanted. Steve would hear that. He’d come to her then.

Someone bent next to her but didn’t touch her.

“Peg? Honey?” Steve asked so gently.

Peggy opened her eyes. To her surprise, he was kneeling beside her. When their eyes met, he reached over to rub her back.“What are you doing on the floor?” he asked.

“It helps,” she managed.

“Okay, but they need you in the bed. When you’re ready, can I help you get up?”

“Don’t leave me again.”

He kissed her on the forehead. “Never gonna happen. I shouldn’t have let anyone get in the way,” he said.

“So unlike you,” said Peggy. “To follow the rules.”

“Oh stop, you’ll give Nurse Samson the wrong idea about me.”

Ada was still in the room and she didn't seem to care that Steve was saying he was going to stay. She shrugged. “How was I supposed to stop Captain America?”

“Thank you,” Peggy said.

“It’s clear the need is real. I’ve never seen a man so devoted.”

“I already let my family down once today. I’m not going to do it again.” He took hold of Peggy’s arm before she could respond to that. “Ready?”

She sighed, nodded, and he lifted.

Once back in bed, Ada checked her over again and then left them alone.

There was a chair against a wall and he pulled it close to the bed. He took Peggy's hand when he was settled and kissed the back of it.“I’m not comparing it to what you’re going through, but that was miserable,” he said. “To be so close but not be able to be with you. It’s bad enough I can’t actually help you.”

“I didn’t like it much either.”

“I’m sorry,” Steve said.

She forced herself to continue the joke that had been running for the entire pregnancy. "Well, it is all your fault," she said.

"I know—so much to be blamed for." His tone was flat like he wasn’t teasing.

"I don't blame you. You know that, right?"

"Then I blame myself. It's a big mess because of me. I’m so selfish for trying to have a normal life. It puts you at risk. The people I care about most in trouble because of me.”

“Don’t start with that again.”

"But if you had a normal husband—"

"I don't want normal," she said with force. "I tried normal, and it's boring. I want you. You and this baby. Our little family."

He put his hand on her stomach. "Feels big to me."

"The next adventure."

"Soon, very soon."

There was another contraction and Peggy moaned. "Not soon enough," she said through gritted teeth.

He massaged her back as she curled up against the pain until it passed. "There," Steve said, "it's over."

Without warning, Peggy bottom lip quivered and unbidden tears slipped from her eyes. She had been trying so hard to hold it together. Losing focus for a second was enough to bring the walls tumbling down.

"That's what I'm afraid of," she said. She tried to wipe the tears away, but they kept coming, making the cut on her cheek sting. "This should be the start but it feels like the end."

"Stop right there," he said sharply. "We have to believe this is just the end of a very bad day. Tomorrow will be better. I'll make sure."

"Something is wrong, Steve. And I don't know if anyone can fix it."

"This kid is as strong as they come. Part of you and a part of me. We haven't come this far for this to be the end. We need to believe that."

"I'm not giving up. I'm...I'm managing expectations," she said.

Somewhere in the middle of the pain and exhaustion, the want for this ordeal to be over was turning into a need. Not for her sake, but for the baby’s. It was like a distress call from her body. She felt like they were running out of time.

"Managing exceptions? For Christ's sake," he said. He didn't sound upset. In fact, he grabbed her hand and squeezed reassuringly. "Don't you dare go all British on me."

A small laugh escaped. "All British? What does that mean?"

"No stiff upper lip, what-what. You rage if you have to. You yell and scream and crying and kneel on the floor or whatever you need to. No being resigned. Promise me?" She would have promised him, but there was a sharp pain in her middle. Not another contraction, but something worse, as if she was being torn in half. The words stopped in her throat,replaced by a scream that wrenched from her gut. Her body jerked forward, folding in half.

Steve called her name, but she couldn't answer. “That’s not a contraction?” he said in a panic.

She shook her head, still unable to speak.

He leaped up from his seat, raced to the door, and wrenched it open.

“Hey!” he yelled down the hall and his voice echoed, bouncing off tiled floor, smooth walls, and what felt like the inside of Peggy’s skull. “We need some help in here. Now!”

There were running feet, but Peggy was in so much pain she hardly noticed who had entered except for a man in the white lab coat. The doctor had come at last. Activity swirled around her but her attention pinpointed down to Steve’s hand which had found its way to hers.

“They’ll take care of everything. It’ll all be okay,” he said in a soft voice that somehow still cut through the rest of chaos.

“I don’t know,” she said hoarsely.

The doctor was calling instructions, but it was all so confusing. Her head was spinning. Her thoughts were running in circles around every possible thing that might be happening.

"Anywhere in the world, where would you go?" Steve said.

“What?” She didn’t understand why he was asking.

"At this moment," he said, "if you could blink and be anywhere. Away from all this madness. Mountains? Beach? Jolly old England?"

She picked up on the game. "England wouldn't be so bad."

"Yeah?"

"Not London. Too much noise. I want somewhere quiet."

He ran his fingers through her hair, lifting a section off her forehead and letting it fall back. "I don't blame you."

"I’d like the beach."

More pain and something wet spreading down her legs. She guessed it was her waters until she heard a male voice that wasn’t Steve say, “She’s bleeding. Prep for surgery. Now.”

The orders came out like a bark and the activity buzzed in an even more frantic way. Steve tried to keep her focused, but she saw the fear in his eyes. He swallowed as if stealing him. "So the beach?” he said but his voice quavered. He swallowed again. “Sun and sand? The sound of the ocean?”

She closed her eyes, feeling dizzy. Her thoughts were skipping like stones over water, never landing, never sinking in. A stone skipped to an empty beach with her grandmother.

She opened her eyes. “When I was growing up, my parents always seemed to live a separate life. They were so rarely home. When Michael was away, I was on my own a lot. My grandmother took me to Brighton once. The beach is rocky there, not sandy. It was winter so there was hardly anyone else by the ocean. Just us. We talked. My nan listened like no one else. I'd go there."

He pressed his forehead against hers. "Next year. We'll all go. The three of us. And Peggy? We'll listen. Always. We'll hang on every word. I promise."

There was another surge of pain. She let out another little gasp. The room seemed to tilt, and the world went dark around the edges.

“Stay with the baby,” said Peggy. "Don’t let her be alone. Stay with her—no matter what. Promise me. Promise me!”

“I p—promise.”

There was nothing left, and she slipped into unconsciousness. The last thing she was aware of what Steve calling her name. 

***

Slowly, the sounds formed themselves into words in Steve’s familiar voice.

“It’s not fair—I know it’s not,” he was saying. “I shouldn’t be asking more of you than I already have. But I don’t know how you did it. I can’t—I can’t face a day without you. I know I’m the world’s biggest hypocrite for saying that, but I can't imagine how you kept going. I’m not strong enough—I’m not. You’re the strong one. I’ve leaned on you for that since the day I met you. You hold me up and I can’t do it without you. I’m not done dancing.”

Peggy felt his fingers brush across her forehead and then a gentle kiss on the spot. She felt him take her hand. The warmth seemed to spread up from his fingers to hers and she remembered she had an arm.

“And you were right, Peg,” he continued, “but you knew that, didn't you? The baby _is_ a girl. She’s so beautiful. As beautiful as you. If she’s half as smart or half as tough, we're going to be in so much trouble. You just need to wake up to see her. Please. She needs you too. Our daughter needs her mother. Her mum, right? Right, Peggy?”

The word mum had stirred something in her and she struggled towards the sounds. She remembered she had somewhere to be.

She exhaled and opened her eyes.

“Damn right. Where is she?” she said as blinked in the bright room.

Steve’s face came into her view and he leaped for her. He took her face in both hands and kissed her, hard and deep. She tried to lift up to meet him and she suddenly noticed the rest of her body. And how much of it hurt.

She gasped into the kiss and he let her go.

“Oh God, I’m sorry—I’m sorry.” He took half a step away from her bed as if to keep himself from temptation. “It’s just—just you’re awake.”

She didn’t know how to respond to his enthusiasm; being awake was about as much as she could manage. She tried to sit up, but her muscled seemed to have turned to jelly. He had to help her up against the pillows.

“What happened?” she asked. Her voice was still husky from disuse.

Steve sobered in a second and sank into the chair still beside her bed. He hadn’t left her side.

“You were bleeding, unconscious. They took you away,” he said, choosing his words with care. He was looking past her and she saw a haunted look in his eyes. “They had to operate to get the baby out in time. You both could’ve died.”

The statement hung in the air and Peggy found she didn’t want to know anything else. Not right now anyway; the gruesome details could wait.

“What about our daughter? Where is she?” she said when a glance around the room revealed there was no bassinet.

Peggy felt like she was sitting on the edge of a precipice, the earth had open beneath her and was waiting to swallow her up. After all that, all that fighting, all that struggle and she hadn’t been able to save her own child. The poor little soul. What was the point of it? Why couldn’t she protect the one person who needed it most?

But no, Steve had said their daughter was beautiful. Steve had said she was here. He wouldn’t have been able to smile if something had happened to their child.

Two worlds had formed. A world where she got to be a mother and the dark hole where she didn’t. It all happened in between two heartbeats.

“Tell me she is alright,” Peggy breathed. “I need you to say. And if it’s not true—” A hiccup of a sob escape.

"She will be alright, yes,” said Steve. “They think so at least. They think she will be, but she’s in the intensive care nursery."

Every nightmare still running through her mind at once. She couldn’t even pick a worst case scenario; they were all worst.

Steve pulled her into a tight hug. She leaned into him, letting him be her strength, bear her pain.

When he spoke, she felt his words rumble in his deep voice as much as she heard them.

“There isn’t a diagnosis yet,” he said. “She isn’t exactly…” He didn’t know how to finish his sentence. “Thriving,” he concluded.

“What—what does that mean?” she said. That eliminated none of the scenarios.

“They’re looking into the possibilities of issues with her heart. She’s not breathing well on her own.”

“I told you she wasn’t ready,” Peggy said, her words muffled against him.

“You did. I know you did.”

She pulled back so she could look at him. “I want to see her. I need to.”

“You need to take it easy. You’ve had major surgery.”

“Then bring her here.”

“She needs to stay in the nursery.”

“Then I’m going to her.”

Peggy tossed her sheets aside and swung her legs over the edge of the bed, ignoring the protest of every part of her body. Steve grabbed her arm because he knew as well as she did her legs wouldn't support her. They froze for a long moment. Her head spun and the room with it. She was half in and half out of bed, holding herself up against him with shaking arms.

“Peggy, please,” he softy said.

“You promised me she wouldn’t be alone,” Peggy said.

“She’s not,” he said.

“She needs her mother—you said it yourself.”

“I’m not trying to keep you from her, but if you hurt yourself, you’ll be no use to her.”

She had to agree with him on that point. She leaned back and let him put her back in bed.

He fixed her with an intense stare. She tried to look away, but he moved his head so she couldn’t break contact with his clear, blue eyes. She noticed how exhausted he looked for the first time. His hair was sticking up as if she had run his fingers through it repeatedly. Captain America himself had dark circles under his eyes. She couldn’t imagine the wreck she must look like.

“Listen,” he said, “we have every reason to believe she’ll be okay. She’ll get better and she’ll grow up happy and healthy like any other kid. I was sick when I was born and look how I turned out.”

“That doesn’t fill me with confidence,” she said with something like a smile. 

“Ouch, Peg, that stinks,” he said with a smile. There was some of his boyish twinkle in his gaze again.

She sighed. “Would you please get the doctor or the nurse so they can clear me to visit her?”

“That is a plan I can get behind.”

He cupped her cheek without touching the bandage from Reinhold’s attack and kissed her on the forehead. He stood and went to the door, but glanced back at her before going through it. “So, you could hear me?” he asked.

She nodded.

“Okay. Well. I meant it. You are hands down the strongest person I know.”

An hour later, Steve was pushing Peggy’s wheelchair down the hallway to the nursery. She’d been poked and prodded and medically cleared to sit in the chair. Ada trotted behind them to make sure Peggy stayed there.

Peggy was nervous like she was meeting someone very important for the first time and worried she wouldn’t make a good first impression. This was her child. The little life Peggy had felt stirring inside her. She had known every kick, every movement. Every one of the baby’s patterns from her reaction to sweets to the way she didn’t like it when Peggy leaned over her desk too long. Both things made her kick and do somersaults and Peggy knew that.

But now, she didn’t know. She didn’t know what was wrong, didn’t know how to fix it.

Steve pushed her through a door and into a room filled with large pieces of equipment designed to help the smallest of babies cling to lives they had only just started. There were incubators with large portholes on their sides like windows to the outside world.

Sitting front of one was Angie. There was a script on her lap but wasn’t reading it. Her eyes were closed and her hands were folded on top of the open pages. This was what Steve meant when he said the baby wasn’t alone. Their daughter's Godmother was there when Peggy couldn’t be.

“I called her when you went into surgery,” Steve said as if the room was a church in the middle of a service. “I knew I couldn’t be in two places at once and I thought she’d be who you’d want to stay with the baby.”

“You were right,” Peggy said in the same tone.

Steve wheeled Peggy close enough to touch Angie’s arm.

Angie started as her eyes flew open. They were red-rimmed and tired, but they filled with relief at the sight of Peggy. 

“Thank you,” was all Peggy thought she could manage.

Angie said nothing but rose from her chair and left, giving Peggy’s shoulder a squeeze as she passed. She seemed to know her job was done for the moment.

She had been blocking Peggy’s view of who was inside the incubator, but when she left Peggy saw her daughter for the first time.

Objectively, the baby was as remarkable as any baby. There was nothing special about her. Objectively. To Peggy’s eyes, of course, there was nothing as incredible as the sight before her.

The child was small with a tiny tuft of blonde hair and two round, pink cheeks. Peggy took in the sight so she could learn every curve, every eyelash. She was the most wonderful thing Peggy had ever made in her entire life. And so little. Like a feather waiting to be blown away.

She was sleeping but her chest rose and fell rapidly. There was a little frown on her forehead like she was focusing on some difficult task.

“Can I hold her?” Peggy asked.

Ada stepped forward. “It’s best she stays inside. The box is helping her get oxygen.”

“Just for a few minutes? I want her to know I’m here.”

“You can open the portal, hold her hand.”

“That’s not enough. She needs to know it’s me,” Peggy said. She looked away from her daughter and focused on Ada. “I want her to hear my heartbeat. It’s all she’s known until now, isn’t it? If she hears it again, she’ll know it’s me and she’ll know she’s safe. She needs to know she’s not alone.”

Ada opened her mouth, but couldn’t seem to think of what to say. She closed it again and then spoke. “I’m done arguing with you. Your instincts have been a hundred times better than mine.”

Peggy barely dared to believe Ada was saying yes. But Ada stepped forward and opened the lid. An alarm sounds somewhere in the room, but she ignored it. She untangled monitor leads so she could lift the little bundle.

Peggy leaned back in her chair and opened her arms. The nurse placed her daughter in her embrace.

There was nothing magical about the moment the weight settled in her arms. No swelling music. No rush of every emotion she had ever felt. Peggy was the practical sort.

All she knew was that she had fought harder than she had ever fought before in her entire life so this little girl could be here right now. Peggy had fought hard, and it had been so worth it.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t awake before now,” Peggy said in a slightly choked voice. She didn't know where the tears were coming from. “But I promise—I swear on everything good in this world—that I will not miss a moment as long as I live. Not another one. I will be there for every step.” She hiccuped. “I promise.”

There was nothing else to say.

She leaned forward and placed a kiss on the baby’s forehead. Peggy lifted the baby up, placing a soft cheek against her chest. Her head tucked under Peggy’s chin. She wiggled in her blankets and sighed deeply, a little contented sound that made Peggy’s heart skip a beat. It had been so very worth it.

Peggy looked at her husband, the father of her child. He had knelt next to her wheelchair, holding onto the arm of the chair and leaning his cheek against his hand. He met her gaze and there were tears in his eyes too.

“Looks,” Steve cleared his throat, “good on you.”

“It feels good. Look at her! Our little girl,” Peggy said.

“Here at last.”

They paused like that for a long moment. All that had happened began to sink in; tears dried.

“What do we call her?” Peggy said when Steve broke the moment to move to a chair. “We really have to make a decision now.” 

He rubbed the back of his neck. “I’ve been thinking about it,” he said. 

Again, what all that had happened hung in the air unspoken. Steve been had been thinking about it because there had been a small chance he could be facing parenthood alone. They would have to unpack today’s events, but not right now. Right now they could celebrate the birth of their child. 

“What were you thinking?” she asked. 

“What was your grandmother’s name? The one who took you to Brighton?” 

Peggy smiled softly. She liked his train of thought more than she liked her nan’s name though. “Rosalind,” she said. 

He cocked his head and made a gasp of surprise. 

“You like it?” Peggy asked, surprised at his reaction. 

“I think I do,” he said slowly. 

“It isn’t too, well, Shakespearean?” 

“It is a little formal, but so it Margaret.” 

“I take offense to that comment,” she teased, “but I see your point. Rosalind is a little long for such a little girl.” 

“You know what isn’t? Rosie. Rosie Rogers.”

“Oh Steve,” she said. “It’s darling.” 

“She can grow into Rosalind. Or just Rose. Or whatever she wants,” he said quickly in his excitement. 

“It’s perfect. My grandmother would love it too.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Yes,” she said.

“Rosalind Carter Rogers?” 

She smiled again. She had expected him to suggest that for the middle name too and she was still touched.

“Rosalind Carter Rogers, Rosie,” Peggy said with her own little sign, “welcome to the world.”

**Author's Note:**

> Started for Steggy Week on Tumblr [#steggyweek2k16](https://www.tumblr.com/search/steggyweek2k16/recent)


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